


Heart and Soul

by harrysmileycostume



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Daddy Kink, F/M, Secret Relationship, Too bad!, harry is your sisters ex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:49:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 62,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28517421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrysmileycostume/pseuds/harrysmileycostume
Summary: All of your friends and every woman you knew, virtually, always seemed to be complaining that men didn't want to commit. Jane had the very opposite problem. Any time she had a boyfriend, they were infatuated with her. They did all the right things: bought her expensive gifts, tagged along to family dinners and things of that sort. He'd accompanied her on essentially every family event for two years now. He attended birthdays, holidays, game nights, football games...That's how you got to know Harry. He was your sister's painfully handsome, genuinely caring, and epically fantastic boyfriend—the boyfriend that she'd ditched for Italian people that didn't speak her language and would never show her little sister pictures of their cats or teach her short songs on the family piano.-This was at first inspired by a TikTok (because what isn't, at this point?) but then took off into something I'm kinda proud of. We shall see :)
Relationships: Harry Styles/Reader, Harry Styles/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	1. Harry Perfect Styles

It'd been two months since you'd seen him.  
Jane broke up with him because she was going abroad this summer to Italy and anticipated having sex with random people. Well, she didn't say it that way, but that's what everyone knew it was.  
And that was fine. That was a decent reason, and it'd be better to break it off now than to go and cheat on him. Your sister didn't frequently make such considerate choices, especially without your consultancy, so you were proud of her. You were a little surprised when she told you, but you were proud.  
You imagined that when she told him, he'd cried a little about it, seeing that he did really love her. He'd probably blinked out a few tears and took it decently out of respect, and then she'd left his flat and he allowed himself to really wallow and cry out of pity for the night, tears coating his perfect pink lips.  
All of your friends and every woman you knew, virtually, always seemed to be complaining that men didn't want to commit. Jane had the very opposite problem. Any time she had a boyfriend, they were infatuated with her. They did all the right things: bought her expensive gifts, tagged along to family dinners and things of that sort. He'd accompanied her on essentially every family event for two years now. He attended birthdays, holidays, game nights, football games...  
That's how you got to know Harry. He was your sister's painfully handsome, genuinely caring, and epically fantastic boyfriend—the boyfriend that she'd ditched for Italian people that didn't speak her language and would never show her little sister pictures of their cats or teach her short songs on the family piano.  
You were in love with him. You were absolutely in love with him. You met him when you were nineteen, and you'd never felt that way for anyone, and you probably never would again.  
You searched for him in everyone. Jane had him, and gave him away.  
And now, he was standing in front of you on your doorstep, holding flowers. He cleared his throat. "Hi," he said. "Was hoping it'd be you, not your flatmates," he added.  
"Hi," you replied, blinking. You stared at the bouquet in his hand.  
He extended it then. "For you," he said.  
For your family, you were sure. You had no idea why he was here, but he probably came to your flat because regardless of reason, he didn't want to face your mother and father. You couldn't blame him. That was one of your favorite things about Harry, that he made time spent with your parents much more bearable.  
"Did someone pass away?" you blurted out, staring down at them. There was a small blank card attached to them, and you thought maybe there'd be a condolence message on the opposite side.  
"No," he answered you, frowning.  
"I was going to say, I didn't hear anything," you said stupidly, taking the flowers finally. “Thank you, though. They’re lovely.” Why was this so awkward? You were friends.  
"Don’t mention it. Actually, I came to talk to you," he said.  
"Harry," you said sadly, "She's leaving this week. I even already said goodbye to her."  
He nodded. "I know. I wanted to talk to you, I said," he restated.  
You shrugged uncomfortably. Now, you really had no idea why he was here. "Come inside. Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude," you said, moving out of the doorway to make room for him.  
"No, you weren't. I understand it might be strange," he said uneasily.  
When you both were inside, he shut the door behind him and stared at you, taking you in amongst your pathetic little artists' playground. "Always liked your flat. Your friends are fun," he said.  
You smiled. He'd only been here a few times, mostly to drop off or pick up a blackout drunk Jane. "Thanks. You're polite."  
"I like it, though, really," he said, looking around some more.  
"Um, you can sit. Let me find a spot for these," you said, going into your kitchen and finding one of your flatmates there.  
Adrienne looked up from her bowl of cereal, intrigued. "Harry?" she mouthed.  
"Yes," you hissed, trying to find something to do with the flowers he'd brought you.  
"He brought you them?" she asked you quietly still.  
You sighed. "Yes. I don't know."  
She raised her eyebrows excitedly.  
"What?" you asked.  
"Y/N," she murmured. "He brought you flowers."  
You rolled your eyes. "Not like that. He's probably going to ask me how to get her back or something," you said lowly, finally finding a random vase atop of your fridge and rinsing it out. "Hopefully, he's just being polite. For his sake, I mean. God knows Jane leaves broken hearts in her wake."  
She peeked out of the kitchen to see him sitting on the couch. "He's nervous."  
You placed the flowers in the vase. "We know each other very well; he shouldn't be. Bye," you said, not wanting to be rude and linger too long, taking the vase with you to put it on the coffee table.  
You re-entered the living room, placing the vase down and sitting next to him on the couch. "Sorry," you said, not really knowing why. You were just anxious all of a sudden. Why was he here?  
"Don't apologize, you're fine. Ah, did you read the card?" he asked you, his eyes wide.  
Your face fell, and you looked back over at the piece of card stock attached to the flowers. "No, I didn't. Should I have?" you asked, reaching for it.  
"No," he stopped you. "I mean, I should tell you," he corrected himself. "I was nervous you had. I'm sorry," he said.  
"Well, I didn't," you assured him, resting back onto the couch. "Harry, what is it?" you asked kindly, not accustomed to seeing him so unsure of himself.  
He shut his eyes a second and cleared his throat. "I was wondering... Y/N, what would you think if I were to ask you to go out on a date with me?"  
You blinked, your lips parting. You were silent for a moment.  
What would you think? Well, your first instinct was to jump for joy.  
Your second was to hit him. How long had you known him, and just now he was asking you this? And how were you supposed to know if he was just looking to date a less appealing Jane? You did bare some resemblance to her...  
Jane was two years ahead of you in school, Harry being another two ahead of her. And despite her preference for older boys, all of the boys appropriate for you to date always seemed to have ulterior motives for associating with you. Even after school, at uni, Jane was far more popular with boys than you. You attended separate universities, but you knew it for a fact. She was always telling you to just be more confident, but it was more than that. She was so pretty and endearing and fucking cool, with DD sized breasts.  
You were lame. You always had been, and you never fucking figured out how she got her eyelashes to be that long with just mascara, and you hated parties, and never made a good first impression.  
He interrupted your thought process. "I understand I'm a bit older than you, but I really think you're just... You're very mature for your age, and I don't mean that to sound weird, I just don't see it being a problem. And I tried to stop thinking of you, Y/N, I did, but--"  
"It's not our age that primarily concerns me, Harry," you interrupted him, incredulous. "Are you fucking kidding me?" you asked him more directly.  
"No, I know," he said, his face falling. "I know."  
You sighed. "You're asking me... You're asking me if I'd like to be second to her yet again, now with you," you said.  
He shook his head. "Not second. Not second, Y/N--"  
"Yes, second!" you exclaimed. "Because... Because you've been dating her two years now, Harry. If you wanted to leave her and be with me, you've had plenty of time to realize that and do it," you said.  
"It's not that easy," he said quietly.  
"So you just waited for her to breakup with you," you replied. "That's idiotic. That's either idiotic, or untrue."  
"Untrue," he said. "I... When I first met you..." he trailed, taking a deep breath. "I just knew it would be wrong, and I did love her. I love her; I just--"  
You stood and turned away from him. "Get out."  
"What?" he asked you. "Y/N, don't--"  
"You love her now?" you asked, your voice trembling. "This is so mean, Harry."  
"No," he said. "No! No, I didn't mean that. No, fuck. Y/N... No, I don't love her. I did, really. And I was always interested in you; I always thought you were pretty and kind and smart and so... so different," he told you. "But I just... You were younger, and I knew it was wrong altogether, so I pushed it away. And she left me. She left me, and I feel like shit because it's not her I'm missing," he said.  
You folded your arms, alarmed at that.  
"Y/N... When she told me... When she told me she was leaving me, I thought of you first," he said quietly. "I miss you, and I love you, and--"  
You spun around to face him. "You don't love me. You love the idea of being with her again," you said back, not prepared to see him so upset. "You loved her, Harry. Don't act like you were pining over me as you helped her steal my Monopoly money."  
"What about while I taught you Heart and Soul?" he asked you.  
You shut your eyes. You always told yourself that your hands were bound to bump into each other and entangle; you were playing it as a duet when it was only meant for one person, and you were an awful, horrid player. He pierced your heart as your hands fumbled together on your family's piano, his eyes always so intense and compassionate.  
"You know that I love you," you said quietly. "You wouldn't be here if you didn't know that."  
"I knew you had a little crush, sure," he replied as though you hadn't declared what you had. "Jane always got angry with me about it."  
You half scoffed, half laughed. "She was right to, wasn't she?" you asked.  
He nodded. "Yes, I suppose. And... And I know it's wrong, and if you're this upset by it, I can't imagine what your parents or Jane might think, but..." he trailed. "I couldn't not try. I miss you. And I couldn't not know," he said. "But you love me," he stated. "You... You love me," he repeated, smiling.  
"How could I not?" you asked. "How could I not when you're everything I've always wanted? You're charming, and you're handsome, and earnest, and smart, and surprisingly silly, and you, like... You have your shit together. And you're good with Grace and Michael," you said, mentioning your little cousins and getting choked up. Wouldn't this confuse them, too? "I always just thought... I looked at you and Jane and I knew it was what I wanted, but what I'd never have."  
He quirked his brow. "And why not? You could get a boyfriend," he said plainly.  
"One like you?" you asked softly, shaking your head.  
"Maybe," he answered. "Maybe, if you'd have me."  
You scoffed, laughing. "In two weeks, you're going to realize that her breasts are three times the size of mine and I have no idea how to shotgun anything and--"  
He got up, walked over to you, and cupped your face in his hands. "Stop. Stop it. You're so mean to yourself when it comes to her, and I hate it."  
"I'm boring and plain and--" you whimpered.  
He kissed your forehead. "You're Y/N. She's Jane. That's all," he said softly. "You're very pretty, Y/N. And she's jealous of you as well."  
"Never in a million years--"  
"Your art," he told you. "She graduated a year ago and she doesn't know what the fuck she's doing still. Your parents finance everything for her. You took what you're amazing at and you made a career out of it. You got that exhibition uptown, right?" he asked you. "You aren't even out of school yet and look at all of these opportunities you have for yourself. That's outstanding, Y/N."  
You nodded humbly. "But she's going to Italy, and she'll figure something out. She'll meet some man to take care of her. We all know she'll be fine."  
"She will. So will you," he said. He kissed your cheek and stared at you.  
"Did you ever notice we have the same nose?" you whispered, your faces so close.  
"I'm finished talking about her," he replied. "I'm interested in you."  
"Kiss me," you rasped, swooning over those words. You could be dreaming. "Kiss me so we know what it's like."  
He leaned down and captured your lips with his. His hands moved to your waist, and yours came up to hold his shoulders: his broad, muscular shoulders you'd been infatuated with since freshman year. He was a college senior back then, bright eyed and sexy and fun. You remembered what he was wearing when you first met him, a red sweater and nice, dark jeans with Doc Martens. You thought he was far too smart for Jane that winter break, but she kept bringing him home, and he kept spending the night in her room.  
You pulled away from him, and he stared down at you. You cleared your throat. "Again. Sorry, I need to focus," you said, and although it was the truth, as soon as you spoke it, you heard how ridiculous it sounded.  
He smiled, unbothered by your little sister awkwardness as he always was, and kissed you again, this time his hands working at your back and his tongue entering your mouth. You moaned. This was kissing Harry, you knew it. You squeezed his arms, kissing him back with all the longing that had been in your heart for two long years.  
He'd wanted it, too. He'd wanted you back.  
He began breaking up the kiss with short, small, sticky ones, slowly pulling you both apart. "What does it feel like, then?" he said quietly, referring to your earlier statement.  
"Feels like..." you trailed, collecting yourself. "Feels like playing Heart and Soul," you said, the word leaving your mouth before you processed them again. It happened a lot around Harry, you knew.  
He beamed, nodding. "It does."  
You were standing in your living room, and Harry Styles was holding you. Harry Styles, your sister's long-term boyfriend, was holding you to his chest, having just kissed you within an inch of your life.  
What did this mean? You wished it meant that he never wanted her and only you, that he'd been pretending her kisses were yours for two years and he was all too shy to ever admit it. But you knew that wasn't true. He was in love with Jane, he'd told you himself.  
He’d even said, supposedly accidentally, that he still did love her.  
He saw your face falter. "I'm asking for a date," he spoke up. "A date to see what comes of it. And... And you don't have to say yes, and you don't have to say anything, just..." he trailed.  
You nodded. "I know. Can I have a day or so to think? And I'll text you," you said.  
He nodded back at you. "Yes, of course. Absolutely," he said.  
You couldn't resist. You pecked him once more.  
He moved his hand back to your face and caressed your cheek. "Promise me, though," he started slowly, and you looked him in the eye to let him know you were listening, "that you'll think of yourself when deciding, not Jane." He kissed your nose. "Think of us," he said softly. "We'll figure it out, I promise. If it's meant to be, we'll figure it out."  
You could've melted in his arms. You leaned forward and pressed your cheek to his chest, afraid you'd squeal in excitement and forego the opportunity to really take everything into consideration.  
"Promise me?"  
"Yes, Harry," you replied, and his hand repositioned itself at your waist where it massaged your waistline gently.  
You breathed him in, yours for just a moment.  
"You love me," he spoke in disbelief. "That's... That's outstanding."  
You didn't reply, smiling into his jacket. He smoothed your hair, coddling you here. You'd never seen him and Jane so intimate, but you should stop comparing yourself right this instant.  
He kissed the very top of your head. "All right. I imagine I've bothered you enough for one day," he said, pulling away from you.  
"No, you haven't bothered me," you assured him. “You've... perplexed me, at the least. Overjoyed me at most," you said.  
He smiled at that. "You can text me. I can't... I hope I'm not being presumptuous to say that I can't wait to see you."  
You didn't reply, but gave him a knowing look. "Think of me while I'm deciding," you instructed him finally.  
"Think of you?" he asked.  
"Yes," you affirmed your narcissistic request. "Think of us," you whispered dramatically, teasing him then.  
He cocked his head to the side. "It was meant to be romantic."  
"It was," you agreed earnestly.  
You stared at each other a moment longer before he cleared his throat. "All right. Thank you for... for hearing me. I know it's strange; I... I honestly am unlike this."  
You nodded. "I know. Have a great Sunday, Harry," you said, wanting him to leave before he changed his mind somehow or one of you said something and everything was ruined.  
"You too, Y/N, and a good week in class, yeah?" he asked you. You smiled at that; he was always so attentive to the fact that you were a student still, asking you questions about your classes and your art and your friends and other things.  
"Yes, Harry. Goodbye," you said.  
"Goodbye, Y/N. I love you," he told you, leaving your front door then without giving you time to say it back.  
You stood still in silent shock for a few minutes before retreating to your bedroom to do some homework. You could mull over your decision later tonight when you’d had some time to come down from his kiss.  
-  
Later that night, you were making yourself popcorn in the kitchen, thinking of Harry’s lips and Jane’s trip to Italy.  
“Y/N,” Carla called from the living room. She was another one of your roommates. “Love you dearly, H?” she asked.  
Your heart skipped a beat. “What?” you asked, coming out of the kitchen of course just as the microwave beeped. “Is that what the flowers say?” you asked her.  
“Yes. Who’s this H?” she asked you.  
You blinked, figuring you could tell her. She wasn’t Jane or your mum or dad. “Harry. Harry Styles.”  
“Jane’s hot boyfriend?” she exclaimed.  
“Not as of two months ago,” you replied, smirking as you turned around to get your popcorn.  
“Sod your popcorn! Y/N,” Carla called, following you into the kitchen. “Do you mean to tell me he… He loves you?”  
You nodded, taking it out of the machine. “That’s what he says. He asked me to go on a date with him. Technically, I am still thinking about it, but I think I know what I want to do, and that’s see what happens,” you said. “Carla… He kissed me, and… It was the most darling thing I’ve ever experienced. He said when she broke up with him, he thought of me first,” you said.  
Carla shook her head. “Holy shit. Jane’s gonna die.”  
“What she doesn’t know won’t kill her. It’s not like we’re getting married; we’re gonna go to lunch or something and maybe he can feel me up after. It’s not…” you trailed, a little disappointed in yourself then. “It’s not bad, is it?”  
Carla sighed, shrugging. “He doesn’t seem to think so, I suppose.”  
“We’re both sensitive about it,” you defended shyly.  
“He kissed you, though,” Carla clarified.  
You nodded, beaming. “He kissed me, and it was like… It was like I was dreaming. I probably have kissed him in my dreams before,” you said, being able to count the sex dreams you’d had of Harry, but not wanting to reveal that.  
“I never would’ve guessed it,” Carla said. “Although when I see him, he does seem to really like you. I think maybe I never thought of it just because of Jane.”  
You nodded. Dear Jane. Blonde Jane. Careless Jane.  
“She’ll just have to get over it,” you said finally. “Besides, like I said, it’s not like we’re getting married. I think we’ll just have to see how we are together.” When you thought of it, you didn’t think you’d been with Harry much without Jane around. And that made sense, but it also made you nervous to be alone with him.  
“So just a lunch date and some fondling,” Carla said, wiggling her eyebrows. “Tell me about your kiss today. Oh, he’s so handsome, Y/N, and nothing like these silly college boys.”  
“I know,” you replied excitedly. “He… He was holding my face in his hands—”  
“Oh shit—”  
“And he kissed me on the cheek and he was talking to me and I just told him to kiss me, and he did,” you said. “At first, I was thinking of him and Jane and not really focusing, so I pulled away and kissed him again, and he was caressing my back, and oh, Carla,” you said, smiling. “He is the sexiest, most unbelievable man I’ve ever met. I love him. I’m in love with him, oh my God,” you rambled.  
“I only hope it works out,” she said. “You said you were thinking of him and Jane at first?”  
“Only because… I did feel bad,” you admitted. “But Carla, I love him. I’ve known that I have for years now. He’s… I have to try,” you said finally. “I have to. To know that he’d even consider me, to know that he’s apparently in love with me…”  
“That he loves you,” Carla corrected you. “You love each other. You’ve spent enormous amounts of time together and grown acquainted. You care for one another. Can you be in love? Can you work together?” she asked you. “Those are different questions.”  
“You’re right,” you said. “But I don’t know the answer to them and I want to.”  
She nodded. “Right. You really don’t know. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try. In that way, it’s like a relationship with anyone else.”  
You popped a piece of popcorn in your mouth and held out the bowl for her to grab some. “It is exciting, though.”  
Carla smiled, popcorn in her mouth. “Oh my God, yeah. He’s so sexy.”


	2. First Impressions

You texted him the next day. You ultimately decided that yes, you should go on a date with him. You imagined not doing it, and it felt all wrong, especially after how special you felt yesterday. It felt a little odd knowing that you only had his number because you once had to text him your dinner order for takeout, but you muddled through it.

“Hi Harry, it’s Y/N. I’ve thought on it and yes, I’d love to go out. Can we do lunch this weekend or something? Thank you again for the gorgeous flowers. I also love the note. X”

“Y/N!!! Yes we can do Saturday maybe? Such a doll getting back so soon. I’m glad you like the flowers… No nobody is dead aha. Just really excited to see u”

Your heart warmed at his enthusiasm. “Yeah Saturday works. How about noon? And then where do u wanna go??? You always know really good places”

“I’ll pick u up and take u babe. No worries. 12 sounds good, I’ll be over then”

Babe. He always called Jane that.

“Okay perfect! Thank you Harry” 

“Of course love. You just keep being adorable all right don’t slack on me Saturday”

“I’d never” you replied.

“Couldn’t if u tried x”

You liked his message and smiled to yourself.

You almost texted him around a dozen times before Saturday rolled around, but you were intimidated each time by the fact he hadn’t texted you. You decided to wait to see him before you came off too needy.

That morning, you put on a cute jean skirt and tucked a Rolling Stones T shirt into it, adding earrings and some boots to complete your outfit. You almost put on bracelets and a necklace which also looked pretty good with it, but you were afraid to come off as though you were trying too hard. Little did he know, you tried on basically everything in your closet in anticipation of this lunch date.

He texted you at 11am. “Heading over soon. Cant wait!😁”

“Me neither. See u soon:)” you replied.

When you answered the door for him, you saw he was wearing trousers, dress shoes, and a sweater, and frowned. “Should I change?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Oh, no. You look adorable.”

“Are you sure? Will I look underdressed where we’re going?” you asked him.

“No, absolutely not. You’re stunning. Come along,” he said, grabbing your hand then.

Your face flushed as you shut the door behind you and he walked you down your steps to his car, a cute little Volvo. You'd always liked his car, but then again, you always liked everything about him.

He opened the door for you and you smiled courteously at him, him going around to get in on the other side. He started the car, looking at you happily.

"You pick what to listen to," he said, handing you his phone. "I like your taste."

"You like my taste when my parents are around," you replied. "You don't know what I really listen to."

"Then play that," he said. "I'm sure I'll like it." He backed out of the parking space and you looked down at his phone to find it was locked.

"It's locked," you told him.

"Ah, fuck. 1994," he told you, turning onto the street.

You blinked.

"What?" he asked you, focusing on the road.

"You trust me," you said, unlocking his phone then.

"It's only my birth year." He shrugged. "Are you going to play any music?" he asked.

"One moment," you mumbled, a little intimidated at that. Finally, you settled on the new Miley album. 

"I like her," he said. "So, what's new with you?"

You stared at him. He was tapping the steering wheel anxiously. "Nothing really. I went out last night," you said.

He nodded. "Hit the pubs?"

"Yeah." You watched him nibble on his lip and decided to say something. "Harry, you're never nervous, and now twice I've seen you so anxious," you told him. "Is it something to do with me?" you asked worriedly.

He frowned a little. "I only want it to work out," he said. "I just... I know you got so upset last weekend... I don't want to disappoint you."

You shook your head. "You're not. Listen, I thought about this; I really did. And... We're just two people who know each other really well trying something different. And if it doesn't work, it doesn't, but at least we'll know," you said. "No pressure, really. If it was wrong of me to say that I love you--"

"I said it, too," he interrupted you. "Don't apologize," he said, moving a hand over to grab yours. "And... And I'm glad you have that attitude about it. It's something I should adopt, too."

"Please do," you told him. "I love you, Harry, no matter what. I wouldn't change my opinion of you if we don't work out. I'm happy you decided to try."

He smiled at that and brought your hand to his lips for a little kiss. "I'm happy, too."

"Where are we going?" you asked.

"You really want to know?" he asked you.

"Please, because I have to know whether or not I'm dressed appropriately before we get there to save me the suspense," you told him.

"You look fine. We're going to the diner you like," he said. "You know... The one you picked for your birthday last year." He rubbed his thumb over your hand.

"Harry!" you exclaimed. "Thank you, I can't wait. I can't believe you remembered," you said, blushing for the second time today.

"Of course I did. You were so damn adorable, the biggest smile on your face the whole time over some burgers," he said, making a lefthand turn.

"I just think it's so authentic there, and the food is very good. Didn't you like yours?" you asked him.

"Yes, I did," he told you. "It was a good pick."

"You know, I always insisted we invite you to my birthday dinners even though Mum thought it was inappropriate," you informed him.

"How could she?" he asked sarcastically.

"Well, she knew I had a thing for you, but to be fair, I think probably everyone on the planet at least sort of does," you said. "I'm actually surprised you've stayed single this long."

"Y/N--"

"No, Harry. You're... You're handsome and smart and... You know, all those things I said last weekend," you said shyly then.

"I didn't..." he paused, "I considered trying to date, but I couldn't stop thinking about you."

You beamed and looked down at your feet. He rubbed your hand with his thumb some more, and you both quietly listened to the music until he parked near the restaurant.

It was pretty busy which was probably typical for a Saturday, but the probability that someone you knew might see you occurred to you for the first time. What were you going to say if someone approached you?

He glanced over at you. "Ready?"

You nodded. There was no turning back now, and with any luck, it'd be fine. You pulled away from his hand and got out of the car, following him into the restaurant much like a puppy dog. You didn't mind; at least now, you didn't feel as ridiculous chasing him around trying to get his attention as you sometimes did when you felt bored or lonely the day of a family function.

You were seated in the diner and looking over the menu when Harry kicked your foot gently under the table.

"Hm?" you asked him.

"Nothing. What are you getting?" he asked you. 

"Probably what I got last time which is just their veggie burger. I don't usually get them, but I tried it, and it was delicious. What about you?" you asked.

"Might get that. I really don't know," he told you, looking back down at the menu. You watched him read it, his brows crunching in focus. "Definitely gonna have a peanut butter milkshake, though."

"In that case, I might get the marshmallow one," you said.

"Marshmallow? A marshmallow milkshake?" he asked.

"Yes! It's underneath the peanut butter one, to the left of it," you told him.

He glanced down at the menu. "Is it good?" he asked you.

"Yes, but I love marshmallow," you said.

"I love peanut butter," he replied.

"Then get yours," you said simply.

He tsked at you. "Bossy Y/N."

You giggled. "Well, I'm only saying... How was your week?" you asked him. "You work in business, right? We never really talked much about your job."

"Because it's horrendously boring."

"Impossible," you told him. "You're very fascinating. I can't imagine that your job is that boring."

He set the menu down, looking across the table at you. "I help make rich people richer," he said plainly.

"That's why I'm an art major," you said.

"Right," he agreed. "What about you? What are you working on? How are your classes?" he asked, and you spent the rest of the time in the restaurant catching up and laughing and learning new things about one another. Your anxiety from the car had vanished. On your date, you didn't feel like you were doing anything wrong—it just felt like you were having fun with someone you really liked, which is exactly what you wanted.

"You know what?" he asked you after the waitress took back the check.

"What?"

"This was great," he said. "I'm really, really glad I asked you. Thank you for coming with me."

"Of course," you said. "You know I like you, Harry. You don't have to thank me. Thank you for asking me, really."

He shrugged. "Still."

You left the restaurant and got back into his car, feeling a little awkward because you had bragged to Carla that he was going to feel you up earlier in the week. What if he just dropped you off back home without so much as a kiss? What if he didn't feel that spark from last weekend?

He started the car and eyed you cheekily for a second. "Where to now?" he asked.

"You're driving," you said shyly.

His eyes softened and he nodded. "Y/N..."

"What?" you asked.

He looked as though he was going to say something, but he ended up leaning forward and kissing you instead. You sighed of relief, your hands grasping his face and holding yourself to him. His hands started at your waist, but quickly got ambitious and found their way to your breasts, brushing them at first, but then fully groping them when you didn't stop him. Your hands moved to his arms and chest, allowing yourself to feel him as well, and he didn't seem to mind a bit.

You moaned into his mouth, moving a little closer to him at just the right moment that his hands moved up on your shirt, and your shirt came untucked from your skirt. It was stupid, but you both opened your eyes and looked at each other for a second, both like deer in headlights trying to figure out if the other person wanted to go further.

He cleared his throat. "The backseat--" he started.

"Yeah," you said, getting out of the car and back inside a row further back. He joined you and smiled as you took off your shirt, and eventually followed your lead, tossing his sweater on the floor. 

You looked at him a second. "Your tattoos," you said, surprised. "I never knew you had even more." You'd seen the ones on his forearms, but never on his chest or biceps.

He shrugged. "I dunno what to say."

"No, they're..." you trailed, reaching forward then and touching the moth on his stomach, making him giggle. You glanced up at him. "Ticklish?"

"Sort of. It's just... That's an interesting first choice," he said.

"You're beautiful," you told him, ignoring that. "Touch me back," you whispered, unhooking your bra and he brought his hands to help you discard it, staring at you all the while.

When your chest was bare, that's when you finally remembered that you were a tad nervous for him to see you exposed. You ultimately knew that he had to compare you to Jane, and you had always been the lanky younger sister.

Not catching onto your nerves, he didn't skip a beat in bringing his body against yours, his lips at your neck and hands palming your breasts. To be fair, you had just instructed him to touch you, and he was doing a gentle job, keeping you flush against him, but loving in his movements. The sensation of his lips on your neck, his shoulders against your collarbones, and his chest pressing into your breasts every so often, rotating with his hands' work, lifted the insecurity from your mind in short time. You squeezed his arms and felt his chest lamely at first, unsure of what else to do, until you busied yourself by kissing his shoulder as well.

As you kept going, you both began to pick up the pace, Harry's entire collarbone and shoulder coated in your spit from kissing him, and him circling your nipples with his thumb, making what you were sure was a giant hickey on your neck. Your hand, both curious and a little uncontrolled from his attentions, brushed his waistband and he immediately left your neck and kissed your cheek and then your lips. This encouraged you to rub him a little bit through his trousers, and you enjoyed how he squeezed your breasts as some form of response. In time, one of his hands left your chest to rub your thigh under your skirt, dangerously close to you underwear.

You were making out again, lips seared together, you teasing him overtop his pants, when you started to undo his belt. This was it. You were going to have sex with him. Why not at this point, right? You didn't want to stop now. 

You tugged down his zipper and pushed his pants down to feel him through his boxers for the first time, your heart beating out of your chest. 

"Mm," he groaned, and you smiled a little until he said, "Stop."

You immediately dropped your hands, looking at him forlornly. What went wrong?

Staring back at him, you observed that the windows of his car had fogged, and you remembered that you were literally in a car park.

You brushed that thought off and brought your attention back to him, looking in his eyes, and noticed he had moved a little away from you, up against the car door. "Are you okay?" you asked. "I'm sorry."

"No, I'm fine," he told you, taking a deep breath. "I'm fine, just..." He put his face in his hands. "I don't think we should do this," he said finally. "We aren't ready, and I just... I really, really, mostly don't want to give you the wrong impression. That's what it is. I don't... I'm not looking to just shag you," he said sincerely. 

"I know," you replied. "I want this, Harry," you said, moving a little closer to him. "I'm not... I'm not a prude or something," you mumbled. At least in your mind, you weren't. You had been with two guys, one a random hookup. You could do this with Harry. You trusted him, and if he wanted you, you wanted him.

He smiled. "I'm not worried about that, babe. Even if you were, whatever; I just... We shouldn't. I was actually going to tell you when we first got in the car that I don't think we should go back to either of our places for that reason," he said. "That's why I kissed you, just to makeout a bit in here."

You blinked, shaking your head. "You were the one who said the back--"

"The backseat, I know," he said, squeezing his eyes shut and scrunching his nose, pinching the bridge of it before speaking again. "I'm sorry. I am. I just... I wasn't thinking, and... I just don't think we need to complicate this right now. We've got time, no?"

You nodded. "If you don't think we should, then we won't," you said.

"Do you get what I'm saying, though?" he asked you. "Especially not here, in a fucking car park, you know?" He widened his eyes for a second before you both smiled at each other, realizing how stupid the situation really was.

You nodded, laughing. "Yes, I see what you mean," you replied.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Seriously, though, I think we should hold off. Like... Like, at least a month," he said. "You think we can do that?"

You took him in, his pants pulled down to his thighs, his bulge evident in his boxers. This was the result of fifteen minutes after your first date. "We can try," you said, shrugging. "I know what you mean," you agreed seriously. 

"Good," he said, grabbing your hand and kissing it. "I mean, obviously, intimacy is not a problem between us, which is a good thing, right? But there might be other ones, and I just... I'd hate myself if we went all the way, and then right after, something happened. I just... It wouldn't be right to you. I'd feel like I took advantage of you, and that's not what I'm trying to do. I want to do this the best we can, you know what I mean?"

"I know," you said, "and that means a lot to me, that you think of me like that. Thank you." You crawled over near him and kissed his cheek, your breast grazing his forearm. "Are you taking me home now?" you asked him.

"Do you want to go home?" he asked.

"No," you replied, squeezing his hand. "What can we do that'll be fun and just... You know, not this?" you asked him. "If you're not busy, of course, and if you want to," you tacked on.

"I'm not busy. We could go out and get a drink," he said. "Do you have anything tonight?" he asked.

"No. I should probably do homework, but there's always Sunday," you said.

"That's a girl," he told you, grinning. "Now, let's get dressed."

"Yes, let's," you agreed, grabbing your bra first, watching him zip himself back up and thinking of how big and warm he felt underneath your hand for only a moment, your underwear dampening even more at just the thought of it. One month.

You both recollected yourselves and Harry leaned forward, kissing you on the forehead. "Lovely little Y/N," he murmured before opening the car door, getting out first, you following behind him, feeling special but perplexed at those words. Little Y/N... It was nice, but did he mean little in comparison to Jane?

He took a deep breath. "All right, then. Where to?"

"I dunno," you said. "Wherever."

"No, cut the shit," he said, smirking. "You're the student here. Where's a good place?" he asked.

You smiled. "There's a place my girlfriends and I like, but I dunno. It's kinda... It's more of a dance place," you said.

"That could be fun. Where is it?" he asked.

You described where the little pub was and he backed out of the parking space, leaving the lot for good.


	3. Pressure, Pressure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where it gets a little ... ~explicit~ lol

When you got to the club, it took about two drinks for you both to get on the dance floor and start making out essentially as you had in the car.

You were pawing at his chest, remembering it in all its glory underneath his posh sweater, while his hands abandoned all caution and alternated between your breasts and bum. Normally, you'd never be caught like this, so explicit in a public place, even a dark dance floor. But it was Harry, and it felt good. It felt good that him, the most handsome man in the bar and also probably the world, the one you'd wanted for two years, was feeling you up in front of everyone. You wanted to scream it to everyone who walked in the place.

The music switched to a song you particularly liked, and you pulled away from his lips for only a moment to smile. He looked back at you, but it wasn't him you were staring back at.

Her red hair, her face, even the bloody shirt that she was wearing that you were pretty sure she'd worn to brunch once. There was no doubt in your mind—that was Jane's very good friend Molly who was gaping at you and your hands on Harry's abdomen, and had been watching you kiss for however long. The look on her face told you she knew exactly who Harry was. 

"Y/N," he said. "Y/N, what's wrong?"

"Holy shit," you said back. "Holy shit, we have to leave," you told him.

"What? Are you okay?"

He watched your eyes follow someone out of the room and then return to him finally. He glanced behind him, but you tugged his sweater to regain his attention again. "That was Molly. She saw us. We have to leave."

"Who?" he asked.

"Molly!" you exclaimed. "Molly, Jane's friend."

His face fell. "Ah, fuck," he said lowly.

You frowned, tears sprouting in your eyes. Every single one of your bad feelings about this entire thing jumped to the forefront of your brain. "I don't... I don't know why I thought we could do this. We need to leave."

He grabbed your hand then. "Okay, we can go."

"Now. Like, right now," you said, leading him off the dance floor and heading over to the exit of the bar. 

In your haste, you'll admit, you weren't the brightest.

"Y/N," you heard your name called. "Harry!"

It was Molly, having just entered the small lobby herself.

You looked to Harry, shaking your head and pushing towards the door to leave.

"Harry!" she called again.

"Er, goodbye," you heard him call back just before you both stepped outside. 

"Don't say anything," you commanded him with a tearful voice as soon as you got outside.

You walked to his car and got inside, slamming the door behind you and bursting into tears.

He walked around to his side and entered as well. "Y/N, calm down," he said, frowning and a little shocked at your reaction. "Calm down, it'll be fine."

"No, it won't," you cried. "Don't you get it? She's probably calling Jane right now, telling her exactly what she saw! Who knows how long she saw me petting you?" you sobbed.

He sighed, starting his car. "Maybe... Maybe you could text Molly and try to--"

"And what? Ask her to lie for us? Why on Earth would she do that?" you asked him.

"I don't know, Y/N, but she didn't seem upset back there--"

"Because she's one of Jane's little gossip mongers from uni, and she was about to tell me how great my hair looks before stabbing me in the back," you snapped. "Fuck, didn't you date Jane? Don't you know how her friends are, how she is?" you asked. You cried a little longer, shaking now. "Are you sure you should be driving?" you said finally.

"Y/N, I had two beers. You had two vodka tonics," he told you, "which is probably, hopefully, I mean, at least a fraction of the reason why you're bawling your eyes out right now. Calm down. It'll work out."

"How?" you asked, irritated.

"I don't know," he said. "You were the one who said we should be no pressure. Let's not panic before--"

"Well, there's pressure now that Jane knows and she's going to kill me! She's going to tell my mum, who's going to--"

"You're an adult, Y/N. You can make out with anyone you want," he interrupted you, a little stern then. "Christ. Just... Take it down, okay?"

You turned away from him and didn't reply, realizing that he was right, but also that your parents and Jane weren't even who you were most scared of. You were scared of facing yourself after doing this. Jane and Harry dated for two years, two years which you pined over him, and now, two months after they separated, you almost had sex with him in his car. You stared out his windshield, taking all of this in.

"Look," he said finally, overtop of your sniffles. "If it really upsets you that much, I can just... I'll call Jane right now and tell her that I saw you out, and we were drunk, and I came up to you and kissed you, and it didn't go any further than that. Is that what you want?" he asked you.

"Well," you said, "First off, we just left together, which Molly is definitely going to report to her. Second..." you trailed, shaking your head. "If you say that, we're over. You can't tell her that and then say that we're dating months later, or at any point later. Or what if we go on a date and someone else spies us and tells? It's either something or nothing between us. We'd have to be done with."

He blinked, digesting that. "You don't want that," he said.

You looked over at him finally, angry. "Do you? What the fuck are we doing here, then? No, I don't want that. You're the one saying we should wait to have sex so we can get this straightened out and really date. Do you want it to be over?" you asked him.

"No, but I just..." he trailed. "Look at you," he told you, his face twisting in an almost-sob then. "You're freaking out. I just... I don't want you to be upset."

"Well, I am," you said quietly. "I don't know what to say. I'm not ready for her to know."

"I'm not either, but I asked you if you'd call Molly—"

"I'm not asking her to lie for us," you cut him off definitively. "She's close with my sister, and... If I saw this happening with one of my friends, I'd tell them. I can't ask her to do any different."  
He nodded, silent.

"Take me home," you said finally.

He put the car in drive to do just that.

You cried silently the whole way home until he came to a stoplight and spoke up. "I can either take you home, or make a turn and take you to my place," he said.

"Why would you want to do that? I'm a mess, and you said we shouldn't—"

"Exactly. You're blubbering, Y/N. I feel like shit leaving you like this. You could come over, and we'd watch a movie and get you to fall asleep," he said.

You paused, contemplating the proposition. If this could be your last night with him, then you wanted to spend it properly. Also, if Jane called you, you wouldn't be alone, and maybe he could help. And watching a movie and cuddling seemed nice.

You looked back over to him, nodding and smiling a little. "Yes, thank you. I'd like that."

He reached over and grabbed your hand. "Okay, sounds good. We'll go to my flat. Have you ever been before?" he asked you.

"No, I don't think," you said.

"All right, then you can see it for the first time. I haven't tidied up for company or anything, but I think it'll be fine." He glanced at you again. "I promise it'll be okay, Y/N. I promise."

You nodded. "I know it will, I just..." you trailed, nodding again finally. "Thank you."

He nodded back at you and the light changed, so he made a turn and kept driving.

This was definitely a posher part of town than you were used to in your quaint little artists' flat. This was where you'd typically go to meet a professor for lunch or maybe go shopping with your mum for her birthday.

When he pulled into a parking space, he let go of your hand and put the car in park, but didn't take off his seatbelt. You only realized then that you hadn't listened to music for any of the drive.

"Can I ask you something?" he said before too long. "And I need you to be honest with me."

"What?" you asked. "Go ahead."

He shut his eyes a second before speaking again. "Do you regret that I took you out today? Do you wish I hadn't?"

"No," you replied automatically, which seemed to surprise and relieve him.

"Good," he said, nodding. "Good, I'm glad. Okay." He rubbed his eyes.

"Why would I?" you asked.

He scoffed, gesturing to your tearstained face. "Look at you. You're sobbing."

You sniffled. "I don't know. I just... I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. I was the one with the grand idea to take you out and try this," he said sardonically.

You whimpered. "Harry--"

"What?" he snapped.

You sobbed, unaccustomed to seeing him angry. Was he angry with you? "Harry, I'm sorry," you cried. "I'm sorry, I just... I get upset when I think that maybe I'm not doing the right thing, but I really, really, do like you, and--"

His face softened. "Oh, I know, love. C'mere," he said, unbuckling himself then and leaning forward to embrace you. 

"I just... I want to be a good sister," you told him. "I love her. I know... I know I talk a lot of shit, but I love her so much, and I know I'm not being the best sister right now," you said.

He kissed your hair. "I know, hon. But you've been the best sister for a long time. It's okay to do something for yourself even if it's not also the best thing for Jane. Does that make sense?" he asked.

You nodded. You were honestly surprised Jane hadn't called you yet. Maybe she was just busy in Italy.

He pulled away from embracing you and pecked you on the mouth. "Now, come on. Let's get you inside and try to calm down. Are you a little more sober, you think?" he asked you, stroking your hair.

You shrugged. "Maybe, I guess."

He nodded. "I think you are. We'll get you a water once we're inside, though, yeah?" he asked. "And a proper dinner." He cupped your face in that darling way again. "Hm, little Y/N? How does pizza sound for dinner?" His thumb stroked your cheek as he pouted at you in a way that made you feel the alcohol in your panties.

You twisted your neck to kiss his hand. "Whatever you want, H. I'll get it, my card's in my purse."

He shook his head. "Absolutely not. Who do you take me for, letting some pretty crying girl pay for her own dinner? Never."

You rolled your eyes. "I pay for my own meals all the time."

"Not with me you don't," he said.

"Next time we go out, we'll go to dinner and get appetizers and dessert on me," you said.

"That's what you think. Come on, now," he said, kissing your forehead and turning off and exiting the car.  
-  
"Can you hand me my phone?" you asked, cuddled into his chest after finishing some pizza.

"Why, babe?" he asked you. "Elsa not entertaining enough?" He gestured to the TV where Frozen 2 was playing after much convincing and telling him he simply had to watch it.

You laughed. "No, just that I should Venmo you before I forget."

"Y/N."

You glanced up at him. "What?"

He pecked your lips. "I'm going to say this once," he told you, "You don't pay for things with me."

You blinked slowly. "But Harry--"

"But Y/N," he whined back sarcastically. "No. I won't allow it. I'm taking care of you, love. That's all," he stated.

You sighed. You imagined that for the beginning of your relationship, that was fair. Especially considering that his flat was more like a penthouse, you weren't going to push it anymore, with him being so insistent.

You were about to reposition your head against his chest when you realized and gasped. "Harry!" you exclaimed.

"Yeah?"

You sighed, exasperated, pouting and getting choked up from earlier. "Your sweater! I was a total idiot and cried all my makeup off, and look," you lamented, looking at the sparkles and concealer staining it.

He shrugged, looking down at it with you. "Not a problem."

"Not a problem?" you exclaimed. "Harry, this is a nice sweater. I'll pay for it to be cleaned."

"What did I just say, Y/N?" he asked you gravely.

You looked back up at him. "But it's my f--"

"But no. I'll get it cleaned," he said, shaking his head. "Don't be upset over this, too. C'mon, watch the ice queen reunite with her sister now."

You sighed, glancing at him a moment more before looking back down at his ruined sweater. 

He sighed back, pulling his shirt off then, throwing it on the couch. "Christ, Y/N, happy now? Not to worry, love-y. Watch your princess movie, baby," he said.

You eagerly repositioned your cheek on his bare chest, your hand tracing his abdomen absentmindedly.

When Elsa began singing Show Yourself, you cried like you always did, sniffling and wiping your tears quietly.

"Fuck," he said, laughing. "How many times do you cry in a day?"

You made a wounded noise, sitting up and looking at him. "I... I just cry sometimes," you whimpered. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, it's all right if you look this pretty when you do it," he mumbled, kissing your nose. "There, baby. Are you tired, little Y/N?" he asked you, placing a wet kiss on your mouth.

"Uh-huh," you responded, your eyes fluttering closed. There it was again, little Y/N. You didn't mind it at all this time.

"Uh-huh," he mocked back at you dumbly. You didn't know why, but when he teased you this way, it bruised your ego in the sexiest way. "Uh-huh. Oh, honey... I can tell you're gonna be good for me, yeah?" His thumb traced your cheekbone as you were finding he liked to do.

You were sat with your legs bent overtop of Harry's, facing sideways to him, your face inches from his, infatuated with his intense stare.

Before you knew it, his hand came between your thighs and began rubbing the inner of one of them. You closed your eyes. He said he wanted to wait a month, right?

What he said next shocked you.

"Moan."  
You opened your eyes to look at him in confusion of what you just heard. His hand only moved closer to your panties, rubbing dangerously close. "You heard me," he said lowly.

It wasn't difficult for you to vocalize one, having basically been holding them back for the last minute. You didn't have a precise reason for why you were so responsive to him; all you knew was that you felt unashamed and good when you were with him. It was like when you were dancing in the pub. You'd never imagine moaning at a man's request. With Harry--

"Oh," you moaned, stretching your neck. You cried out again as his thumb brushed your panties.

"One more and I'll give you something to really whine about," he said, and he made it easy by adding more pressure with his thumb, pressing right into you.

You did as you were told and he shoved your skirt upwards and pulled your panties down. He swiped his index finger up your fold, barely brushing your clit, and grinned. "Oh, love, you're slick. You're so wet for me, hm, babe?" he asked, brushing a stripe up and down against you painfully softly.

You squirmed, desperate for more stimulation.

"Answer," he commanded.

"Hm?" you asked, honestly having forgot what he said.

"I asked you if this is for me," he told you, looking you in the eye expectantly.

"Y-Yes," you stuttered out.

He smirked. "Not usually so shy..." He kissed you chastely. "This'll put you right to sleep, yeah?"

"Yes," you replied back as you had before, making him chuckle.

"You learn quick." Without warning, he slipped a finger inside you and began pumping. You rocked your head forward out of shock, and eventually to his dull rhythm. You gripped onto his shoulders as he picked up the pace. "Sh, lay down," he said. You groaned out of confusion and he stopped pumping. "Lay down. I don't want you to hurt yourself," he said more gravely.

You nodded slowly, relaxing down into the couch.

"Ready?" he asked you.

"Mhm."

"Use your words, please."

"Yes, Harry."

"Very good." He used two fingers now and pumped harder than before, making your thighs shake. "Fuck, Y/N, you're so tight. I don't think I could fit another one." His thumb swirled your clit then, blurring your vision.

"Harry--"

"That's right, babe. Say my name."

"Harry, Harry, Harry!" you cried, feeling your muscles tighten around him and let go, knowing you had just totally coated his hand in your juices. He stroked you through your orgasm with no hesitation, only retracting his hand when you were completely finished spazzing, out of breath on his couch.

Vaguely, you registered that the credits of the movie were rolling before you gained enough consciousness to sit up and kiss him on the mouth. He laughed through the kiss. "Aw, baby. I was gonna come down to you; I wanted to give you a minute," he explained.

You weren't so relaxed. "I-I wanna suck you off," you muttered.

He smiled. "That's very sweet, love. Not tonight."

You moved your leg to straddle him on the couch, your skirt riding up over your breasts now. "No, just give me a second to come down and I can get on my knees--"

He grabbed your face on either side and kissed you. "Y/N, have you ever given a blowjob?" 

"No," you admitted, "but I can try, and--"

He smiled at you and kissed your cheeks. "Yeah, we're not gonna do it tonight, okay, love? You've had a long day, and you were crying, and that was just meant to make you feel good, okay? That's all. Let's get you upstairs and in the shower, yeah?" he asked gently.

You nodded eagerly. "I want you in the shower, Harry--"

"No," he interrupted you slightly more serious then. "C'mon, Y/N. I meant what I said earlier today. We shouldn't."

You frowned. "But it'll be really good, I think."

He kissed your hair, grinning some more. "It's gonna be good, I know. That's very sweet of you, but we're all done now. Let's put you to bed, little Y/N." 

You couldn't help but pout. "Fine." If your sister called you tomorrow and ruined the best sex of your life before you even had it, you were going to kill her.

Harry helped you into the shower, seeing as your legs were wobbly. You took a little longer than usual in case he decided he wanted to come and surprise you, but that was to no avail. When you stepped out of the shower, you were excited to realize that you could enter his bedroom naked, but then found that he'd folded a T shirt and boxers on the toilet. You huffed, drying and dressing yourself, and then finally opening the toilet door to his bedroom.

You had no idea a bedroom could be so sexy. It was nearly all white except for the wooden furniture. You were almost scared to step onto the carpet and possibly make a mark.

He looked up from where he was lounging on the bed. "All good for me to use?" he asked, and you nodded, scurrying over to take your place on the opposite side of the bed.

"Very good. Shut your eyes now," he said, standing and going into the shower himself.

You were definitely worn out, but you had no intention of falling asleep until he came back from his shower. He hadn't even kissed you goodnight.

You found the remote for his TV on the comforter and channel surfed for the duration of his shower, discontent with everything on, trying not to wonder how many times Jane slept in this spot.

When he re-entered the room, he didn't bother putting on a shirt, and you were very grateful. He climbed into bed, and you immediately cuddled close to him, your head snuggling beneath his chin. He chortled. "Very cute."

"I try."

"Oh yeah? I figured. No one's this adorable on their own," he said.

You smiled, nuzzling your face into his neck.

He kissed your hair. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Wait," you whispered, and swooped out from under his chin to kiss him on the lips. "Okay. Goodnight, Harry."

His thumb came up to stroke your brow bone. "I'll drive you home tomorrow morning, okay?"

You nodded. "Thank you, Harry. Sorry I... I just didn't expect that today, and--"

"I know," he told you. "I understand. You're fine. Don't worry about it, okay? It'll be okay. I love you."

You beamed. "I love you, too, Harry."

He squeezed his arms around you. "All right. Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight."  
-  
You woke up the next morning and felt him against your thigh.

This was torture. 

You kissed his neck, clearing your throat. "Harry," you rasped.

He flinched awake, opening his eyes. "Y/N, fuck," he said, running his hands over your back soothingly for a second, making you think maybe you were on the same page. "I know you've got to study, babe. I'll get you home."

You latched your lips onto his neck then. "Study-smuddy," you mumbled. 

He rubbed your back some more. "No, you know you should go. Only meant to be a lunch date, wasn't it?" he asked, and you detached your lips then, unnerved.

That humbled you, pulling away then. You nodded. "Yeah, okay."

"I had fun, though," he said, kissing your cheek. "Definitely interesting, right?" he almost joked.

"Yeah," you agreed, and suddenly the air between you both grew thick.

As you were accustomed to, you totally misinterpreted it. "We should do it," you blurted out.

"What?"

"We should do it because what if Jane calls me today and flips her shit, and we can't be together, and--"

He groaned, rolling over away from you. He stood up and walked over to his dresser, grabbing a pair of jeans. "Shit, Y/N, get up! I'm taking you home."

"You're the one with a hard on," you retorted.

"Yeah, that I'm taking care of in the toilet in a second. I meant it yesterday. We're waiting," he said.

"Can I ask why?" you challenged. "If I want you, and you want me--"

"I told you why," he snapped. "I told you why, and it's that I don't want you to be upset--"

"I'm only going to be upset if--"

"Enough!" he exclaimed. "Enough, Y/N. If I didn't know you any better, I'd be really fucking peeved right now," he said, although he looked pretty angry. "I told you I'm not having sex with you. Can you understand that? Honestly, grow up. I hope you don't act like this normally," he said.

Your face fell, finally understanding what he was saying. "No, Harry, I--"

"Have you ever heard the little term no means no?" he asked you.

You cleared your throat. "I didn't mean it... I didn't mean it that way. You told me it was only because of me, and then last night..." you trailed, sighing. "You're right. Whatever your reasons, that's the end of it. Okay. I won't ask again. I'm sorry. Really, Harry, I am," you said.

He nodded. "I'm sorry if... If last night confused you. I'm using the toilet. Be ready when I come out," he said, leaving the room then.

You stared ahead of you. So much for intimacy not being a problem.  
-  
Your ride home was quiet.

"I'm sorry," you said after a few minutes. "I really am."

He shook his head. "'s fine."

You looked at him, frowning. "Did I ruin it?"

"No." He stopped the car at a light and looked over at you finally. "No, you didn't ruin it. I know you didn't... You didn't mean it like that. And I can understand you being confused, what with the backseat yesterday, and then the couch..." he trailed, clearing his throat awkwardly.

Not to mention his dirty talking to you.

You glanced down at your phone and sighed. Jane still hadn't called.

"I just... I've never felt this way about anybody, Harry, and the thought that Jane could take it away from--"

"She's not taking anything away, Y/N, and you know it. What you're telling me is that if she throws enough of a fit, you'll stop seeing me. Is that right?" he asked you.

You gulped. "I just... I know how she can get, and... I'm just... I'm still afraid I'm not doing the right thing."

"Well, you are," he said, looking you right in the eye. "You wanted to go out with me, and you did. Don't let her intimidate you into letting her make your decisions for you. You're too smart for this shit, Y/N. I don't know if it's that you're in college still, but--"

"I thought you said my age wasn't a problem," you interrupted him.

He sighed. "I've never seen you act so immaturely until yesterday." The light turned and he drove again.

You frowned, resenting the tears coming to your eyes yet again. Maybe he was right. Maybe you were too childish to be with him, a crybaby.

When he pulled up to your flat, you took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes again. He saw you'd been crying and rolled his eyes. "Fuck, can you pull it together?" he asked you, and you were terrified at those words. "I'll call, okay?" he followed up, and you were relieved.

You sniffled, nodding. 

He held your hand. "I mean it, Y/N. I'll call. Or if Jane calls, call me, okay?"

"Okay," you said, wiping your tears and plastering a smile on your face.

He laughed. "Come here. Come here, you poor thing. Poor little Y/N just wants everyone to be happy with her." 

It confused you how he could go from angry to loving in a matter of seconds. Regardless, you leaned into him and he embraced you, placing a kiss near your ear. "Don't you worry about it, okay? I love you. I'll send you a text and we'll do something this week, yeah? Sound good?"

"I'm sorry, Harry," you said. "You're right, I'm being immature--"

"Hush. You're fine, love." He pulled away and kissed you. "Run along and tell your mates hello from me."

You frowned, unconvinced. "You're not angry with me?" you asked.

"No, I'm not. You're all right." He kissed your nose. "I promise. I'll see you, babe."

You nodded, figuring you should leave the car now after your sixteen hour date. Maybe that was the problem--first dates weren't meant to be sleepovers. And the drama hadn't helped. 

"Goodbye," you said, pecking him before unblocking your belt and reaching behind you and opening your car door.

He pecked you back. "Bye, love. Talk soon."

As you walked up to your door, your phone vibrated, but you didn't want him to see you look at it.


	4. Adventures in the Volvo

You got into your flat and saw the notification was a message from Molly.

"Hi Y/N. I figured I should text and let you know that I decided not to tell Jane what I saw at the pub yesterday. She won't know about you and Harry"

You frowned at the message confusedly, shutting your flat door behind you.

"Oh. My. God!" Carla shrieked. "He shagged you! Tell me everything," she gushed.

You looked up from your phone and shut your mouth from its gape. "We didn't sleep together," you said, your back still pressed against the door.

Carla sank into the couch, clearly disappointed. "What did you do all night long, then?"

"Slept," you replied. "It was a long day," you explained lamely.

"How so?" she asked. "How far did you go?"

You smiled at that finally. "He fingered me. He is so... He's just so manly. Like... I'm almost afraid of what I'd do for him when we're together," you rambled. "He is so sexy, and he makes me feel like the only woman in the world. He just..." you trailed. "He's Harry, you know?" 

Carla nodded dreamily. "I know."

You paused. "Do you have time for me to tell you all about it?" you asked.

"Please," she implored. "Sit."  
-  
You handed her your phone, showing her Molly's message. "So what the fuck is this? I mean, is she lying?" you asked.

Carla shrugged. "No idea. The only way to find out is to ask," she said.

"Do I trust her, though?" you asked, annoyed. "I mean... I don't want to waste my time, but at the same time... I need to know."

"I don't know why she'd lie, though. Like, why would it even matter?" Carla asked.

"That's true, although I really don't know, which makes me feel like maybe she could be," you said.

At that moment, Adrienne entered the living room. "Ooh, Harry and Y/N sitting in a tree, shagging allll night," she teased.

"We didn't. In fact, he thinks we should wait a month," you informed her.

Carla rolled her eyes. "She came, though. He fingered her. It'll be fine, Y/N."

Adrienne blinked, confused. "What did you do all night?"

"Sleep," you said, annoyed to answer the same question again. "On his muscled, tattooed chest," you tacked on for good measure.

"You should ask her, Y/N. Ask Molly what she means," Carla said. 

You sighed, looking down at your phone. "Okay," you said. 

"Hi Molly. Thank you so much for doing that and letting me know. I'll tell Harry as well. Can I ask though... Why wouldn't you tell Jane?" you sent.

You put your face in your hands. "This is all so stupid," you groaned.

"Y/N, is Harry coming with you to the showing?" Adrienne asked.

You blinked, only remembering now. "Fuck," you said. "That's this week?"

"Tuesday," Carla affirmed.

You rolled your eyes, leaning back into the couch so your head rested on the cushion. "I'm going to look like a fucking loser without a date, but I really think we need our space."

Carla nodded sympathetically, having heard the gory details of the never-ending first date.

You sighed. "I don't know. He didn't seem angry in the car... at the end," you said.

"Maybe think on it," Carla advised. "I bet he'd be happy to come, though. And it'll be public. There'll be no reason to fight."

"Fight?" Adrienne asked.

You shut your eyes.

"It's complicated," Carla answered.  
-  
You took a shower, and when you got out, Molly had replied. 

"It's not as though Jane told me when she slept with my boyfriend in December."

You nearly dropped your phone.

December.

Harry and Jane were certainly still together in December.

You wrapped yourself in your towel and opened the bathroom door. 

"Holy shit," you called out.

"What?" Carla asked.

"Jane," you said, "Jane cheated on Harry."  
-  
You replied to Molly, "That's news to me. I'm so sorry about that. Thanks again for your help, hope you're doing okay". It was awkward, but you didn't know how else to reply.

"Do I tell him?" you asked your friends, sitting on the couch in your towel.

"He might already know," Carla allowed.

"I suppose..." you trailed. "I should text him about this showing. I need to take someone or else I'm not going to have anyone to talk to but Reading, and that shit is never, ever happening again," you said.

Adrienne nodded enthusiastically. "Fucking perv."

You looked to Carla. "Or should I call him?" you asked.

"Call him, and hear how he reacts to you asking," she advised. "If he thinks it's too soon, it'll show in his tone."

You nodded. "This is why I ask you these things," you told her, and Adrienne scoffed behind you.

"Hey, I'm the one who said that flowers meant something," Adrienne said.

"Oh my God, of course fucking flowers meant something," Carla retorted.

"Sh," you said, your phone ringing as you held it to your ear. 

"Hello?" he answered after a few rings.

"Hey, it's me," you said, curling up on the couch. "Listen, I know yesterday and today were, like, kind of weird," you began.

"Yeah, but I told you not to worry about it, babe. Don't. It'll be okay," he said. "Did Jane call?"

"No," you said awkwardly, not ready for that conversation yet and honestly confused about how to approach it, so you weren't going to for the time being. You cleared your throat. "Harry, are you angry with me? It's okay if you--"

"I'm not," he interrupted you. "I'm sorry I got so angry in the car. I love you, Y/N. I understand it can be hard, but just know that I have your back and it's gonna be alright. I promise," he said. "Is that what you're calling for, you're worried? Honey--"

"No, I'm actually asking for a favor," you cut him off. 

"Oh?"

"Yeah, um... And you can totally say no. It's my fault, I forgot about it until now," you said.

"What is it?" 

"It's just... Each semester, the art department has a big showcase, and, you know, with it being my junior year, I have a few pieces in it. And it's kind of customary to bring a date. It's Tuesday night. If you don't want to because it's not your thing or you think we need space--"

"I'd love to come," he said, and you could hear his smile over the phone. You smiled back, holding your knees to your chest excitedly.

Carla wiggled her eyebrows.

"Tuesday night, you said? Okay. Where is it, what time?" he asked.

"It's in the Valiant building," you told him. "I'll text it to you. It's on campus. And the showing begins at seven."

"Do I need to dress nice?" he asked.

"Not if you don't want to," you said. "I'll be wearing a dress, but it's whatever. Patrons wear jeans," you told him.

"But you'd rather I dress sharply to show off your sexy date, hm?" he teased.

"If you want to," you replied, not confirming nor denying.

He laughed. "Yeah, I'll wear a suit. Is that appropriate?" he asked.

You nodded. "Yes, but no tie. Just a jacket," you advised.

"Mm, does that mean maybe I should leave a button or two open?"

"That's up to you," you answered, smiling before remembering how stone-cold he was this morning. "But Harry, if you think it's not a good idea or too soon--"

"I didn't say that. I'd love to come see your art, Y/N, and meet some of your school friends, too. It'll be great," he assured you. "Thanks for thinking of me."

"Of course," you said.

"It won't be embarrassing to have a graduate of '18 there?" he asked, laughing to hide the genuine question.

"No," you told him, "Not at all. Actually, if you want to hear how totally not embarrassing it is, I've got my flatmates right here who'll tell you how positively fit--"

"Y/N!" Carla interrupted you, her face flaming.

You laughed. "Point being, no. You're wonderful, Harry, really. I'll see you Tuesday?" you asked.

"Yeah. Be sure to text me the building, though. I'm not too familiar with your campus," he said. "I work across town."

"Okay, I will," you said. "Thanks for coming on such short notice. I can't believe I almost forgot."

"It's okay. You're a busy girl, love. I'll see you then. Love you."

You reddened. "Love you, too, Harry. Bye."

"Bye, babe." He hung up and you sat back into the couch.

"How is he so perfect?" you asked, Googling the building and sending it to him.  
-  
Tuesday night, you were curling your hair and eating frozen pizza at your desk when Carla entered your room. "He's coming?" she asked.

You rolled your eyes. "I believe so, yes. If I didn't know you better, I'd think you were trying to steal him from me."

"You never know," Carla joked, lingering. "Do you know if you're going to ask him about what Molly said?"

You sighed, grabbing another section of hair. "Honestly, no," you said. "Definitely not at the showing, though. I'll have to see if he wants to do something after," you told her, "and then even go from there to see if it's the right time."

"Smart," Carla said.

You looked at her in the mirror. "Is there something I'm missing?" you asked.

"No, just... I do hope it works out between you. Especially since Jane cheated. I mean, if she couldn't treat him right, you have every right to have him. And I think it's so sweet you tell each other I love you already," she said.

You shrugged. "It is nice, and I know. I feel terrible, but on the other hand, it has made me feel way better about it. I mean, she really can't say that I'm being any more awful than she was."

"True," Carla said. "Okay, I'll go finish getting ready. Just wanted a quick update."

You laughed. "All right. I'll be ready in like twenty. I wanna leave at 6:15, kay?"

She groaned. "Okay, yeah. Fuck, I hate these things. They used to be so exciting when we were freshmen. Now it's like... Yeah, I made that. Can I go home now?"

You chortled, brushing your curls out with your fingers. "But Harry will be there."

"Harry in a suit," Carla corrected slyly, leaving your room then as you giggled some more.  
-  
You were roaming the studio, making sure your pieces were positively perfect, when you spied Harry come in the door. You walked over to him, and you could tell he heard your heels clicking before he looked over and found you, smiling at you.

"Babe," he said once you were a little closer, and the nickname was beginning to feel like yours instead of Jane's. "Look at you, so fit," he said a little too loudly, you imagined on purpose. "Come here, you're begging me to kiss you right now."

You smiled, leaning in and puckering your lips. He kissed you, his hands coming to cup your face. "Gorgeous. Absolutely stunning. So fucking sex--"

"Miss Y/L/N?" you heard behind you, and you immediately spun around to see Dr. Reading calling you. "This sculpture of yours is remarkable. I knew it was something to behold when you turned it in earlier in the semester, but now, with it displayed just so..." he trailed. "It's exquisite." 

You and Harry took a few steps to properly admire the art with him. "Thank you," you said humbly. "I really like it, too, actually."

"You should. It's magnificent. You know, Y/N, I always saw such potential in you. You're... You're a very fine artist," he said in that way that always made you uncomfortable.

You nodded politely, and Harry's fingers intertwined with yours. "Thank you," you repeated curtly.

"Really," he said. "And if I'm not mistaken, this is the highest bidding so far at a thousand pounds." 

Your jaw dropped. "Oh my gosh, are you kidding?" you asked, and you were positive it was one of the only times you'd ever spoken to him in your true tone of voice. Your shock erased the innocent, too-straight-laced-to-ever-fuck-a-prof facade you'd curated over the last three years.

"No. Here, I can check..." he said, pulling out his phone and scrolling for a second. "Yes. Mr. Barkley bid a thousand pounds on this last night when the gallery had previews. And who knows, maybe it could go for more?" 

You beamed. "That's excellent. Thank you so much, Professor," you said.

"Of course, Y/N. It's your work, after all. You're such a star student, always so good," he said in that same tone again.

Harry pulled you in closer to him and you could've stepped on his toes because he was honestly becoming a little too obvious, and you would've hated for Professor Reading's favoritism to fade based on your relationship status.

"Is this your date?" he asked you. "Sorry to be rude. I'm Professor Reading," he said, extending his hand for Harry to shake.

Harry obliged. "Harry Styles," he said, unsmiling. "Yes, Y/N is quite the artist. She's got her own exhibition to be set up uptown. Isn't that right, love?" he asked.

You nodded. "Yes. Dr. Reading actually put me up for it," you said, painfully uncomfortable.

"Oh, you were the perfect fit. I thought of you right away. Students like Y/N really do well here," Dr. Reading responded.

"She really enjoys her time at uni. I know I did," Harry said, looking around the gallery some more then. "Hm, Y/N? You like it here, don't you?"

"Yes, I love it," you said, nodding. "One semester left."

"Ah, is that right? Graduating early?" Reading asked.

You nodded. "That's the plan. I'm drafting my senior project now."

"That's outstanding. I'm sure it'll be something to see, as always," Reading replied politely. "All right. I'll leave you to enjoy the showings. Congrats, Y/N."

"Thank you, Professor. Have a great night," you said.

Harry nodded, and Reading was finally on his way, you sighing when he was far enough.

"I'm sorry," Harry spoke up, "but was that old fuck flirting with you?"

You rolled your eyes. "He always does it, Harry. It's not a big deal."

He furrowed his brow. "Yes, it is. He has a position of power over you, and that's wrong."

"He's the head of the department. I try not to take classes with him," you told him. "It's fine. I'm out of here in a semester anyway."

"Why would you want to graduate early? I thought you liked school, Y/N," he said.

You shrugged. "Less debt," you replied simply.

He rolled his eyes. "I could pay for you to stay," he said.

You blinked. "Harry--"

"No, I could, really," he told you.

You shook your head profusely. "No. No, you couldn't because that'd be ridiculous. Don't ever suggest that again. Besides, I have the credits to graduate, so I am. End of story. I've made up my mind already," you asserted.

"All right," he said. "You can do whatever you like."

"I will, thanks," you replied, a little peeved.

"A semester to go then, hm?" Harry changed the subject, sensing that you were miffed at his earlier suggestion. "Wanna piss off that fucker?" He was eyeing you like he might kiss you, and you were always open to that.

"Mm... Does it have anything to do with making out a little tastelessly in front of this sculpture?" you asked.

"Everything to do with it, actually," he murmured, placing his lips on yours and slipping his tongue into your mouth.

You groaned, kissing him back, and felt his hands move over your dress and down to squeeze your bum. You stayed like that for around a minute until he pulled away, beaming at you and that's when you finally felt the dozens of eyes on you.

You laughed quietly. "Will I get in trouble?"

He shook his head. "No, it's just a snog. Come on, wanna show me the rest?" he asked, and you nodded, grabbing his hand and looking back at your sculpture one last time before walking him through the rest of the gallery.

As you went through the gallery, you were so glad you decided to ask Harry to come. It was a great date. He listened attentively while you explained what you knew about each piece, asked relevant questions, and knew when to be quiet and just admire something. He also raved over your contributions, calling you his little Picasso. You grinned at that, your inspiration this semester coming chiefly from the Picasso class you took last term. This was an excellent date. You made ample small talk, but also really enjoyed yourselves. It really was a change of pace from the weekend, and you were glad that it was going so smoothly.

You circled back around to your piece from earlier that night, just taking it in in all its glory. You rested your head on Harry's shoulder. He rubbed your back soothingly. "It's beautiful. You should be proud," he told you. 

"Thank you," you replied softly.

He kissed your hair. "Your work is amazing, Y/N, certainly the best here."

You shook your head modestly. "Maybe."

"Maybe? Come on," he said. "Is this your favorite?" he asked you.

"Yes," you answered definitively. "Maybe that I've ever made," you added a little forlornly. 

"Of anything you've ever created?" he asked, surprised.

You nodded, supposing. "Yes, actually. I really love it, and it took such a long time, but it was so much fun. It's something that I can stand here and tell you that I genuinely love and I managed every little detail," you said. "Nothing about it is accidental."

He nodded. "That's outstanding." He frowned. "You're a bit sad."

You glanced up at him, a little surprised he noticed, but not truly shocked. "Yeah. I'm glad someone bid on it, that's great. I just... It'll be in someone else's house, you know? Bringing joy, maybe, but... I'll have pictures, that's what matters," you decided finally, nodding.

"I could buy it for you," he said.

You rolled your eyes. "No, you couldn't."

"Yes, I could. I could bid, like, what--three grand, to be sure? And you'd have it," he said.

"That's a lot of money," you said.

He shrugged. "It's not, though. And it'd make you really happy. Er, where's that prick, that Reading bloke?"

"Harry," you said. "You shouldn't."

"Why not?" he asked you. "Give me one good reason, and don't involve the money."

You let out a little growl, frustrated.

"There. It's settled, then. You don't have to part with it," he established. He grabbed your hand. "For your favorite thing you've created, it's more than worth it to me," he told you. A gallery attendant, an adorable freshman in a red polo shirt, happened to walk by then. "Excuse me," Harry said, and the girl turned to him. "How do I go about bidding on this sculpture? I want to bid three thousand pounds."

"Harry--" you said, embarrassed and hoping no one around you heard him.

The student gulped. "Um, I think the front desk should be able to help you."

He nodded sharply, smiling. "Thanks so much. Come on, Y/N," he said, walking you over to the entrance with the admissions desk.

You stood in line, your face heating. "This is silly. It's so embarrassing that my date is buying my sculpture," you murmured.

"No, it's not. It's a fantastic piece, and I'm glad to pay for it," he said. He looked at you finally then. "Do you want me to do this? And don't tell me no because it feels weird to you. I'm asking you if you would like the sculpture."

You took a second. "I'd like it. Thank you very much," you replied softly.

He smiled, kissing your forehead. "Very good, little Y/N," he whispered.

"I mean it, Harry. It really--"

The people ahead of you in line finished at the desk and you moved forward to be met with yet another freshman working the exhibition. "Hi," you said nicely. 

"Hi, I'd like to inquire about putting a bid on that sculpture over there," Harry said, pointing to your one that opened the gallery.

The girl nodded. "Um, okay. Let me just grab Dr. Reading," she said, getting up out of her seat and going to get him.

"Fucking perfect," Harry muttered.

"Harry, be nice," you instructed.

"Oh, I will. To get you your sculpture, I'll be nice," he said, and not ten seconds later was Reading sitting in the girl's space at the desk.

"Ah, Mr. Styles," Reading greeted him. "Interested in Y/N's opening piece, is that correct?" he asked as though he was making sure.

"Yes, I'd like to bid three thousand pounds," Harry said clearly, not wanting to spend any more time here than needed. "Do you think that'll be enough to win it at the end of the showing?" he asked.

Dr. Reading cleared his throat and nodded. "Yes, I imagine." He began clicking on the computer and spoke up again. "You're particularly fond of it, Mr. Styles?"

"I am, but ultimately, I'm purchasing it so she can have it for herself," Harry admitted.

Reading quirked his brow and you were cursing everything in existence.

"She worked hard on it, and she said it's her favorite thing she's ever created in her twenty one years as an artist. I thought it might be nice for her to have it," Harry explained.

Reading scoffed. "A little juvenile, though, no?" he asked.

"For her to want something she made herself?" Harry asked back. "She spent months on it, and it's important to her."

"Harry--" you whispered.

"No, that's fine. I'll make note of it and call Mr. Berkley. I'm sure he'll be disappointed," Reading said.

"He might be. Can I also ask that you take down my phone number and call me if anyone outbids me during the course of the showing?" Harry asked. "I just really want it for her. I'm willing to bid more if I need to."

Your face reddened.

Your professor cleared his throat uncomfortably again. "All right, one moment," he murmured.

Harry squeezed your hand.

"Y/N, I forgot to ask you this when I mentioned Mr. Berkley. Would you like your portion of Mr. Styles' bidding to go towards your financial aid, or would you like it as a check?" he asked you.

Shit. You totally forgot about this. You'd never received a commission from a uni show before. Half of it was going to be paid to you. 

"Um--" you began.

"Her portion?" Harry asked. "Wait, I'm sorry. How exactly does this work?"

Your face heated, wanting to sink into the carpet and never come out.

Dr. Reading sighed, taking his hands off the keyboard. "As student and artist of the university, Ms. Y/N here will receive one-half of any winning bids made on her art this week. The other half is attributed to the university's art program," he explained soberly.

"That's rubbish. She made it herself; she should get what it's worth," Harry said. "And you can address her a little bit nicer, by her last name."

"Harry," you said then, your face beet red, and he finally looked at you. "Please. You're embarrassing me," you whispered, looking around to find that a few people were certainly listening in.

He looked at you inquisitively. 

You sighed. "Just do the three," you whispered, "and go ahead and have him call you if someone else bids, I guess, if you insist."

He blinked, sighing. "All right. Sorry, professor. That's three grand for the first piece, Y/N Y/L/N's beautiful sculpture. And I'd like you to take down my number, still."

Reading blinked. "You're sure."

"Yes, I'm sure," Harry said.

The professor reared his head to look at you. "And the destination of your portion, Ms. Y/L/N?" 

"Financial aid, please," you said meekly.

"All right, great. What is a good number to reach you, Mr. Styles?" 

Harry read him his phone number, squeezing your hand as you darted your eyes around to find some of your classmates definitely taking note of the situation. You flushed. What if rumors began circulating about your older date spending thousands of pounds on your own project? Suddenly, you felt dirty, and not in a good way.

The rest of the transaction must have gone painlessly, or you were none the wiser because before you knew it, Harry was making out a check and handing it to your professor. "Thank you, sir," Harry said earnestly. "I appreciate it."

"Of course. Thank you for your donation to the university," Reading replied.

"No problem. Call me if anything changes. Thank you," Harry said, leading you away from the desk, noticing that you were still red. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, thanks. Just... I hope no one was thinking the wrong thing over there," you said nervously. 

He shook his head. "No, okay? If they ask, you can just say that I love you very much and I was happy to buy it for you. Or you can tell them to mind their fucking business, how's that?" he asked.

You smiled. "Okay. Thank you, Harry. I mean it. Thank you very much."

He smiled back. "You're welcome."

"Are any of your friends here? I'd like to meet some of them," he said.

You nodded. "Yeah, a bunch of them. Let's see if we can find them."

"And then, do you wanna go get ice cream or something afterward? I ate dinner before I came," he said. "Are you hungry?"

"I ate, too, but ice cream sounds really good," you said.

He kissed your nose. "Good."

You smiled, your cheek grazing his shoulder.

Three grand was a lot of money, you weren't denying that. But when you thought of it, Harry was always buying Jane jewelry and clothes and chocolates in all sorts of expensive brands. You weren't downplaying it, or maybe you were. Maybe you needed to feel sane in the moment.

You grabbed his hand. "Let's find my friends," you said, leading him over to where you thought you saw a few gathered together a bit ago.  
-  
Harry made polite conversation amongst your mates, most of which were in your program with you. A few were from other departments and were nice enough to come out and support you, which was really great, and you expressed your appreciation to them.

"Of course, Y/N. This is the best one yet. All of your work is outstanding," your friend Brendan told you.

Harry squeezed your hand. 

"Thank you," you replied humbly. 

"Especially that first piece, Y/N," Carla chimed in. "Really great. Like, definitely the best thing you've made that I've seen."

You beamed. "Thank you so much, it means a lot." You looked at Harry then.

"Y/N, we're thinking of going out drinking after this," Adrienne said with a wicked grin.

"On a Tuesday?" you asked, rolling your eyes. "Good thing Harry and I already made plans for ice cream."

He shook his head. "If you'd rather go out and drink with your friends--"

"I wouldn't," you cut him off. "No offense," you said, glancing at them.

"Can't blame you," Carla smirked, and you deliberately ignored her, but Harry let out a little laugh.

"We can get going," you told him. "It's not like I have to stay."

"Don't you want to, though?" he asked.

You shrugged. "We saw everything, hung out a bit... I'm done," you said. "Really, like... It's great to have an excuse to leave."

"All right. As long as you're sure," he said, and you nodded back at him. He turned to your circle of mates. "Okay, I think Y/N and I are gonna head out. It was lovely meeting all of you and your art."

As if he already hadn't charmed them enough, you saw all of their faces melt in adoration at those words. He was so damned perfect sometimes.

"Thank you for coming, Harry. It means a lot to Y/N," Carla said ambitiously.

You glanced at her not too unkindly. "It was nice you came, yeah," you agreed somewhat ambivalently, not wanting to make him think this was a big deal. "We should go," you said quietly to him. "Goodbye everyone," you announced a little louder. "I'll be back later," you said to your flatmates.

Carla winked at you and Adrienne nodded casually. You hoped Harry hadn't seen Carla's reaction; his comments about your immaturity were swimming in your brain. You both walked hand in hand away from the group, leaving the building and walking to where he parked in a garage nearby.

"Thank you for my sculpture," you said after a minute of silence. "Really. Like, really, thank you so much. You didn't have to do that. It was a lot of money, actually, and--"

"Stop," he said. "I offered it to you. It's fine. I'm glad I could buy it for you," he told you. "Especially in front of that dick prof. He really rubbed me the wrong way. Of course you should get the money from it, Y/N, it's your work."

You cleared your throat, uncomfortable. "It is a little awkward that some of the money goes to me. I promise I really wasn't thinking of that," you said shyly.

His face fell. "Oh, no, love. I know you weren't. And it should go to you anyhow, that's what I thought it was when I agreed to bet on it," he said. "If you want, I could call and raise my bid to six so you could get what it's worth."

"No, certainly not," you replied. "Please just... Just leave it be," you said finally.

He nodded. "Okay."

You reached his car and got in, and he leaned into you and kissed you. You smiled, remembering how you made out in these seats on Saturday.

After a few minutes, he finally worked up the courage to feel up your breasts through your dress. Things were escalating, your hand rubbing his thigh, when he finally pulled away. "We should stop," he said, and both pairs of your hands returned to your own seats.

You nodded. "Okay." You rubbed your lips together in a vain attempt to fix what you knew was now a botched lipstick application.

He kissed your cheek. "Just... Yeah. We should stop." He gulped, pulling away fully then. He started the car.

"Where are we going?" you asked.

"Dunno. You wanna sit down somewhere, or--"

"Not really, actually," you said. "I want to be alone with you." You had a feeling that it might be time to let him know about Molly tonight, and you knew you didn't want to do it somewhere public. Plus, you could use some alone time after the first portion of your date was at the gallery with your peers and professors.

He nodded. "Okay. We could get it from a drive-thru and sit and eat in here," he said. "Or is that--"

"No, that's perfect," you said enthusiastically. "It's a nice night out. You know, late April..."

"Yeah, it is." He backed out of the parking space and began driving.

When you stopped at a light, he played music on his Spotify from his phone. You leaned into his arm, resting your head on his shoulder. "Needy?" he asked, grabbing your hand then.

"A little," you admitted. "I hope we can just talk tonight. I feel so wrong about the weekend, and--"

"Don't apologize anymore," he interrupted you. "I lost my temper, and I apologize. You're fine. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you whispered. "Just as long as you're sure you're not angry with me."

"I'm not. I've got a feeling I'll have to remind you of that quite a bit."

"Maybe," you said softly, and he squeezed your hand. "It's just... I don't know. I get nervous, I guess. I like you. I want you to be happy with me."

"I am," he answered, pulling into a cute ice cream place, taking his spot in the drive-thru line. "What would you like? They've got cones, blizzards, sundaes..."

"Hm..." you said, having never been here before. You swore he knew of a million places in the city. It was impressive, actually. "Do they do dip cones?" you asked.

He smiled. "Hell yeah, they do. That's a girl, Y/N." He moved forward in line by letting off the brake.

"Well, normally, I would get one, but a blizzard sounds good, too... What do you think you'll get?" you asked.

"I'll get a twist cone dipped in chocolate, and you get whatever you want, and you can have some of mine," he said. "Sound good?"

You pressed your nose into his arm, smelling his cologne and musk and Harry-ness. "Yes. Sounds excellent." 

You finally pulled forward to the window. "A chocolate sundae, please," you told him, and he ordered. You got your desserts at the next window and Harry pulled into a parking space for you two to eat.

"We could've gone back to mine," he offered.

You shook your head. "No, I like outside." 

"All right." He took a lick of his cone and you looked away, hating and loving the feeling in your stomach at the same time.

You dug into your sundae, occupying yourself that way.

"So I've been wondering," he said, "I don't know if it just hasn't happened yet or if you're avoiding telling me," he interjected, "but has Jane... Has she called or anything?" he asked.

"No," you told him. "Actually, I've been meaning to talk to you about that. It's... It's not good news," you said.

He blinked.

You readjusted in your seat. "Well, it might be something you already know, though, so..." you trailed, sighing. "Should I just tell you?"

He nodded. "Yes, please. Now I'm scared."

You felt a pit in your stomach then, but you knew you had to tell him now. "Okay, well... Molly actually ended up texting me telling me that she wasn't going to tell Jane anything. And I replied back thanking her but I also asked why she wasn't going to. And she... She told me that Jane slept with her boyfriend in December," you forced out, breaking eye contact with him.

He didn't reply.

"Did you know that?" you asked quietly although you were pretty sure he hadn't based on this response.

"No," he said, clearing his throat.

"You guys were together then, ri--"

"Yes, we were," he interrupted, and you stared into your sundae awkwardly.

"I'm sorry, Harry," you said finally. "She can be such a rotten bitch, and I'm so sorry. I wish she were a better person," you told him. "I wish she... I wish she didn't hurt you like that. You don't deserve that." You looked up at him finally. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," he said quietly and quickly, blinking rapidly, you assumed to ward off tears.

You noticed then that his ice cream cone, oversized and neglected for the last minute, was threatening to spill over.

"Harry," you said instinctually.

"Yeah?" he asked, obviously still upset.

"Harry, your--" you began, but ice cream threatened to fall onto his nice suit at that moment, and you leaned forward instead, sticking your tongue to the cone and saving the ice cream.

You foolishly, intuitively, idiotically glanced up at him, your tongue slurping the ice cream cone at about the height of his lap, and his eyes burned into yours in what you would describe as the most sexually charged moment of your life.

And what did you do at that moment?

You laughed. You giggled, pulling away and looking out the window in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry," you laughed, trying to control yourself. "I'm so sorry; it's not funny. It's not funny at all, I was just saving your ice cream from falling onto your suit, and--"

"You're right, Y/N, it's not funny," he said, and you turned to look back at him, your face fallen.

You found him licking the ice cream cone, salvaging the rest of the mess while smiling. Your anxiety dissolved and you smiled back at him.

He finished cleaning the mess, and you watched his tongue move torturously slowly, lapping up the rest of the dripping dessert. All of a sudden, your sundae seemed so lame.

"It's not funny, it's incredibly fucking sexy. Do it again," he instructed you.

Your face flushed. "Harry--"

"You're gonna first finish this ice cream cone with that pretty little mouth of yours, and then you're going to suck me off in the backseat of this car like the good girl you are," he said. 

Your jaw dropped, and his eyes went wide, his face apologetic. "Oh, fuck, Y/N, you really did that on accident?" he asked you.

You gasped for air, so uncomfortable yet absurdly turned on in the moment that you were nearly panicking. "Yeah, I just didn't want you to ruin your suit when you were so upset--"

"Oh, baby," he comforted, frowning. "Y/N, I'm so sorry. I'm a pervert, clearly. I thought--"

"But I want to," you said softly. "I mean..." you trailed, looking up at him. "I meant it on Saturday, Harry. I wanna try for you." Your eyes found the ice cream cone and the idiot had let it go again, the vanilla liquid sopping the cone and ready to spill over. Fuck it all. You leaned forward, this time looking him in the eye the whole time, and licked it.

"Come up here," he commanded then, and you rose to meet his face. He kissed you gingerly. "Don't do it because you feel bad or any of that shit, okay? Seriously, don't. Because that wouldn't be right."

"No," you said, shaking your head and putting your sundae in the cupholder of his car. "I've thought about this for a long time, actually," you added, your voice low. "Longer than you'd think." To be so close to him, making him call out your name, looking up to God, maybe his hand in your hair... You weren't lying, it'd happened in your dreams once or twice.

"Fuck, Y/N--"

"I want to suck you off, Harry," you said, just as you had on Saturday, but with more conviction. 

"Finish the ice cream cone first," he said softly. "I wanna watch you."

You nodded politely, leaning back down and finishing what was left of the honestly pathetic cone at that point. "That's right, Y/N," Harry coached. "Good little girl, such a good girl for me. Use your tongue, love, that's it." You bit into the cone awkwardly and he gently moved to hand it to you. "There, baby. Go on." 

You sat up and ate the rest of the ice cream cone, feeling incredibly stupid. "Not too sexy," you murmured. 

"'s fine," he replied, making extremely strict eye contact with you.

You reddened, growing more nervous as you finished the cone. Holy shit. You had no idea what the fuck you were doing. What if he laughed at you?

Harry leaned forward and kissed you. "You're all right," he said gently, sensing your nerves. "Still wanna do this? I promise it'll be okay if you don't." He stroked your hair and looked at you concernedly.

"I just... I want it to be good," you whispered. "I've never done it before, and what if--"

"Y/N, if you're planning on putting me in your mouth, I promise that there's nothing bad that can come from that, okay? It's gonna be fucking amazing," he interrupted you. "If you want to do it."

You nodded then. If you didn't want to, you wouldn't have come this far. Sure, it was a little scary. What adult thing was fun without being a little scary, too?

You opened the car door behind you and he smiled, opening his as well. 

You met each other in the backseat, your heart pounding.

He leaned forward and kissed you again, gentle and loving. "There's something you need to understand," he said.

"What?" you asked, nervous.

"I'm so fucking hard right now, Y/N. It's not going to take long at all," he said, kissing you some more. 

You were actually relieved at that. Being that you had never done this before, you had no plan of action. If you could wing it for like five minutes and be done, that would actually be ideal.

"Okay," you replied. "Okay, that's fine." Your hands shakily found the zipper of his pants.

"Sh, hold on. Hold on, let's make sure you're okay a moment," he interrupted you, kissing you again. He held you tightly at the waist, kissing you with tenderness. His hands moved to hold your face suddenly, pecking your lips over and over. "You're all right, baby. It's me. It's okay. I'm gonna be right here the whole time."

You nodded. "I know, Harry. I'm ready," you said, looking him right in the eye so he knew you meant it. This was going to be hot.

"Okay. And if you wanna stop, just stop, and I can finish," he said quietly. "No shame in that."

You smiled. "I'm not gonna do that," you said.

"If you want," he offered in the same tone. 

You ignored him, now confidently unzipping his pants and pushing them down.

You took in his erection clothed by his boxers for just one moment.

He was big. You flushed. You could feel yourself actually getting excited to take him into your mouth, which embarrassed you a bit, and you looked away for a second although you knew it was all in your head.

"It's okay--" he began like he was expecting you to back out.

You shook your head, pulling his boxers down and leaning over, tongue kissing his tip in one motion.

"Y/N," he immediately called out, and you were glad he ditched the pet names for this occasion. 

You smirked, sizing him up a second more before wrapping your mouth around him and getting to work, suctioning and moving back and forth. You were amazed at how natural you found this. Somehow, you knew you were doing it right.

Maybe it was the cries above you.

"Fuck, Y/N. Y/N, baby--" he whimpered. His hand reached out and gripped the seat in front of him. "Y/N!"

You grunted, tears coming to your eyes, now realizing that maybe you'd paced yourself a little too fast or that you should probably fucking breathe through your nose. You shut your eyes completely.

Somehow, in his meditation of pleasure, he sensed your discomfort, and his other hand moved to rub your back softly. "Not long now, hon," he managed out in a moan. "'s alright," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut.

You slowed your pace by a tad, not wanting to, but needing to. Doing so made you realize you could cup your tongue around the bottom of him--

"Fuck!" he yelled, and he finished, exploding in your mouth. 

You pulled off of him, keeping your eyes shut and attempting to catch your breath, but of course your mouth was full. You started coughing, and you felt tears and cum all over your face. "Harry," you cried, and he leaned forward, rubbing your shoulders.

"You're okay, baby. Breathe," he said. "Breathe, Y/N. I promise you can. Take a deep breath, babe. Through your mouth."

You did as told, opening your eyes and taking a deep breath and for the first time registering that you had gotten his cum all over your face, your chest, and the interior of his car. He kept rubbing your shoulders, his face so concerned and loving and doting. "There. That's it, babe. That's right. Just breathe, yup. You've got it," he said.

You finally gained enough sense to wipe the tears from your eyes and get a better picture of him staring back at you. When you were ready to speak, you said, "I made such a mess. Let me get some paper towels, something--"

"Sh, sh," he said, shaking his head profusely. "First off, I made the mess, okay? I definitely made the mess. And you've got to be fucking kidding, thinking I'd let you get out of the car like this. I'll go in the restaurant and ask for the paper towels, okay? That is something I can totally do," he assured you, nodding.

You began unbuttoning his shirt, just wanting to be close to him and not ruin it as well.

"Woah, what are you--"

"I want you to hug me, but I can't fuck up another one of your nice sh--" 

He leaned into you and wrapped his arms around you, holding you to him. "That's a girl. Yeah, there's a good little girl, my Y/N. Baby love. Of course, baby. Of course you wanna be close to me. That's alright. I'm right here. Harry's right here for you, hon. Little Y/N."

You sighed with relief. "Was it okay?" you asked quietly.

"Okay? Okay?! Baby," he exclaimed. "Baby, you have no idea. It was perfect. I didn't know you could be so sly, you little minx. What did you think of it?" he asked you. "If you didn't like it, we'll never do it again. That's okay, love. You tried, and you're okay now. I'll make it better."

"You're so big," you said. "Felt warm in my mouth."

"Yeah? And did you like it?" he asked.

"It was scary, but... If I got used to it, if I could remember to fucking breathe, I think it'd be better," you said. "I liked you calling my name like that."

"I'll remember that," he said softly, "in a month or so."

You cleared your throat, pulling away from him then. You couldn't believe he just said that. You'd never given a blowjob in your life, and now he still didn't want to have sex with you? You were basically already past that point in your mind.

"I'll get the towels," he said, pulling up his pants and adjusting himself then. He leaned into you and kissed your forehead. "I'm so proud of you, Y/N. Good job, baby." He exited the car door and left you sitting alone, the smell of him sinking in.

You took a deep breath. What was wrong with you that he didn't want you? 

You looked down to find that of course, your dress was also ruined. Great, fucking great. This was, like, your one good dress. You could be such an idiot sometimes.

He opened the car and showed you the loads of paper towels he'd gotten. It almost looked like a whole roll. "Saved myself the embarrassment and just went to the toilet," he said, leaning forward and wiping your chin. "You okay, love?"

"Yeah," you said, smiling.

"No, you're not. What is it? You hated it?" he asked.

"No, Harry, I told you it was fine," you said, blinking and looking away from him.

"Yeah, and now you're about to cry. So what is it?" he asked.

You sighed. "I'm fine."

"No, tell me," he insisted.

You finally looked back at him and thought up something to say. You didn't want to bring up sex again. It'd just lead to another argument and ultimately, you knew he was right. No means no. If he doesn't want it, then you shouldn't do it. It didn't matter the reason.

"I just... Can I be close to you for a minute longer?" you asked.

"Oh, of course," he gushed, moving to enclose you in another hug. "There, there, little Y/N. You tell me when you're ready. I shouldn't have left you in here all by yourself, huh? You just need a little more loving, is that right?" he rambled.

"Yeah," you replied, pressing your nose into his neck.

"Okay. That's fine, honey. We'll just stay here until you're ready to be done." He kissed your hair. "Thank you, Y/N. You did a great job. I'm proud of you, baby. And if you don't want to do it again--"

"I thought practice makes perfect," you said into his neck, smiling, and he chuckled. You pulled away from him and looked at him. "I'm okay now. I just... Felt a little scary being alone," you said lamely.

He kissed your forehead. "I'm sorry, should've thought of that."

You pulled out of his embrace then. "All better now. We should really clean this up."

"I'll do it," he said, wiping the car seats.

"Give me some for my dress," you told him, and he handed you some towels and frowned at the state of your dress, stained beyond the help of a paper towel. 

"Shit, should've thought of that. I'll get you a new one. Pick something out and send it to me, and I'll order it and ship it to you," he told you simply, finishing cleaning off the seat.

You nodded, unsure how to reply to that. 

"'s not like your grandmother's or something, right?" he asked you.

"You think my grandmother would've worn this dress back in the 1960s?" you asked, running your hand along one of the spaghetti straps.

"Right, just making sure," he said. 

You finished making sure your face was completely clean and he leaned forward and kissed you. "Again, I don't want this date to be over," he mumbled.

"We could cuddle and make out at mine," you offered softly. "I know you're probably still upset."

"We really don't have to, I'm fine," he said, "but if you wanted--"

"Yes, I want to," you said. 

He smiled. "Okay, let's do that, then. I'll throw away the paper towels. Are you okay with me leaving now?" he asked genuinely.

You almost wished you'd thought of something else to say before, but it was really sweet how he really cared.

"Yes," you answered. "Harry, I'm fine. It was just in the moment."

"Okay. As long as you're sure," he said, and he grabbed the paper towels from you.

"Grab my sundae from the front as well," you reminded him, getting ready to go up to the front of the car. 

"Ah, fuck. Do you wanna go through again and get you one that isn't all melted?" he asked.

"No. I ate that ice cream cone, remember?" 

He smirked. "Yeah, you did. It was fucking hot."


	5. Sins Against Jane

You were sat on your couch, each of you with a glass of cheap wine after you'd showered and changed out of your ruined dress. You lent Harry an old pair of Adrienne's dad's sweatpants and a shirt you knew she had designated for hookups.

Harry's hand rubbed your thigh back and forth slowly as though you could handle that sort of temptation. His fingers breached the fabric of your pajama shorts every once in a while.

The rerun ended, and you turned to him. "This is boring," you said. "Do you have any suggestions for what we should watch?"

"Could watch... You naked," he said with a giant smirk, to which you smacked his hand. "Or what about, like... I dunno. Something sexy."

You shook your head. "For someone who wants to hold off..." you trailed.

He leaned forward and kissed you, and you gladly reciprocated. He detached your lips suddenly, surprising you. You looked back at him, your brow quirked.

"Did you honestly think I'd allow you to blow me and not get off tonight?" he asked you. 

You grinned.

"I'm gonna lick you down, Y/N," he mumbled, kissing you again. "I wanna hear you scream."

You tensed, and he noticed, pulling away. "Is that... Is that okay?" he asked.

"Never... Never did that before," you said. "Never had that done to me before, I guess," you restated awkwardly.

"Would you be comfortable with it, then?" he asked you. "Just wanna taste you, babe, make you feel good."

You nodded. "I trust you," you whispered. You'd been fingered before Saturday, but the experience with Harry made you realize that you certainly hadn't been fingered well. He definitely knew what he was doing... down there.

He nodded back slowly. "Okay. Gotta get you ready first, though, don't I?" he asked, leaning in to kiss you again, his hands coming to squeeze your breasts through your pajama shirt.

"W-We can't do this here," you said.

"No?" he asked playfully, kissing you some more.  
"Harry, my mates," you told him. "They could come back any second."  
"Let them watch," he mumbled, and he sounded serious. "Made you cum on my couch, let's do yours, hm? And maybe your girlfriends can learn a thing or two."

You put your hand on his chest, stopping him. He looked up at you.

"No, I'm serious. We need to move to my bedroom," you said.

He smiled. "I know. Only joking, baby." He stood up and held out his hand for you. You grabbed your glass of wine, finished it, and put it back down on the coffee table. "Not too drunk to do stuff?" he asked you.

"Harry, it was one glass of wine," you said, grabbing his hand.

"Just making sure," he said softly, and you walked him out of the room and down the hall into your bedroom. You shyly flicked the lights on and remembered how pristine his room was, hoping he wouldn't judge yours.

He looked around. "How adorable," he said quietly. "Go lay down. I'll take care of you." He nodded at your bed.

The idea of laying there waiting for him as he inevitably delayed sounded torturous. "Harry--"

"Fine. Such a baby," he drawled, tugging your hand and leading you over to your bed. He sat down first and you followed. He tsked. "Gonna need to listen a little better, Y/N. I usually don't reward that kind of behavior. You need to listen when I ask you to do something for me."

You pouted. "I'm sorry, Harry. I wanna listen, just don't wanna be away from you," you mumbled, trying for the first time to play into this dynamic he always started with you.

"I know, love. I know you don't like it when you don't know what's gonna happen, right? So how about..." he trailed, looking you dead in the eye, "I tell you exactly what I'm gonna do. Does that sound like something you'd like, little Y/N?"

You nodded, smiling at the moniker. "Yes, Harry."

"Okay, good. Thought I'd try something a little naughty since you were so good with that ice cream in the car." He kissed your nose. "All right. First, I'm gonna ask you to take off your clothes because I've never seen you all the way naked, and I'd very much like to."

You grinned, lifting your shirt over your head and shimmying your shorts off.

"Beautiful, baby," he whispered, kissing your cheek. "Now, I want you to lay down so I can see you better, and I think it'll be easier on you." 

"Don't leave me," you said dramatically, pouting again.

"I'm not. I'm right here," he said. "Go on."

You rested your head against your pillow and tried to remain calm as his eyes raked over you, completely naked for him for the first time.

"You're nervous," he said. 

You took a breath. "A little."

"Don't be. Why would you be nervous?" he asked you, frowning. 

"I just... I want to be good for you," you said. 

"I love those words," he replied. "I love those words, baby, but I don't like to think of you being nervous about this, about us being together. All I ask is that you listen, honey. This is supposed to be for you, Y/N, remember that," he said. "Something tells me your other sexual encounters weren't really for you."

You shrugged, unsure how to respond. 

"Let's take our time, then," he said, tracing a hand over your collarbone. "Yeah? How do you feel about me marking up your tits a bit?"

You nodded anxiously.

"Words." He tsked again. "Gonna need to start remembering that. I can't remind you every time."

"Yes, Harry. I'd like it," you replied.

His fingers ghosted over your chest, below your chin, right above where your breasts really began. He nodded, watching you tense. "Okay. Then I'll start around..." he moved his head back and forth, considering it, "Here," he said his fingers tapping your neck overtop the fading hickey from the weekend. "And I'll make a trail of little purple marks..." He traced his index finger down to your right breast and made an S sort of shape over to the underbelly of your left one. "There. And while I'm doing that, I'm gonna use my hands and feel you up a bit, okay? Nothing to worry about. It's all just to make sure you're a little bit wet when I lean down and start. Sound good?"

You nodded. "Yes, Harry," you corrected yourself.

"I like how you say my name," he said, kissing you. "You're smart, aren't you? You know what I'm getting at."

Your face reddened. Did you? You might.

"All in good time, little Y/N," he remarked. "The last thing that I'm going to do is reach my hand," he said, tracing down your belly to your navel, "down here and feel if you're ready." He looked down, and you knew for a fact there was liquid dripping from you onto your sheets after he just spent an hour teasing your thigh, and now with the dirty talk. He grinned. "Something tells me I think you might be by that time," he said softly, "and then I'm gonna lean down and spread your thighs and kiss you right where it's gonna feel real good, baby. I'm gonna use my lips, my teeth, my tongue... That's all. It's meant to be good for you, love-y." He kissed you again, this tongue poking into your mouth a second. "Like that. Okay. Think you might be ready, then?"

"I'm ready," you confirmed, squirming as you remembered that his fingers were resting at your navel.

"Okay. Gonna start now," he said in a more normal tone, leaning into your neck and working right at the spot he'd devoured Saturday. He didn't spend much time on the area already marked, knowing it was sensitive, and moved quickly down your chest and began feeling you up with his hands. His tongue lapped at the undersides of your breasts, his hands rubbing your thighs again. He picked a couple spots on your breasts to really suction onto and eventually open-mouth kissed the pattern he'd drawn earlier. He stopped at where he said he would and gave your skin a wet kiss.

He looked up at you then, cunning as ever as he reached his hand down and ran his middle finger around your center. He smiled as he saw its torturous effect on you, your eyes fluttering shut and mumblings leaving your lips. He kissed your navel, making your stomach suck in from surprise and sensitivity.

"Sh... You're not meant to be nervous, baby. This is where the fun part starts, yeah?" he asked softly.

You nodded, blinking at your ceiling.

He rubbed the insides of your thighs just barely with the very tips of his fingers, amused with how your legs shook. "You want it that bad, yeah?" he asked you.

You gulped. "Yes, Harry." 

He kissed the inner of your left thigh, above your knee. "Good," another kiss a little higher, "answer." He kissed a trail higher and higher and you thought he might actually begin once he got to the top. 

You squeezed your eyes shut and waited. Nothing. You groaned out, annoyed. "This wasn't part of the plan."

"Ah, ah, ah!" he reprimanded. "Balance in all things, no?" he teased, tending to your right leg in the same manner.

"Harry, I'm ready now," you told him a little bossily.

"That's much better. I don't like it when you're so tense, babe. You should be excited for these things. Tell me you want it," he said. "Use your best manners, little Y/N."

"Harry--" you complained.

"Y/N, listen this time because I'm not going to ask nicely again," he said, now rubbing your thighs tenderly. "Tell me exactly what you want me to do, and make it polite."

You took a deep breath, hoping and praying that this was his final test. "Harry, would you please, please, please kiss me where I need you?" you asked him.

He beamed. "So creative so as to not talk dirty..." He ducked his head finally and licked you from bottom to top and you cried out. "We'll fix that next time," he spoke against you, and then really got to work. 

He gripped his hands on both of your legs and licked you harder once more before stroking you rhythmically, working faster. You writhed, moaning out throatily, as you never thought you could. "Taste so good," you heard him muse before sticking his tongue inside you, his nose now meeting your clit.

"Oh, Harry!" You slammed your eyes shut as his tongue thrust in and out of you, and reached down and fisted your hand in his hair. 

He moved upwards to tongue your clit then and you squealed in pleasure, seeing rainbows in your eyes. He stopped for a second and you panted. "Please," you begged, your fingers rubbing tense circles in his hair out of frustration. "Harry, please!"

His tongue stroked you again, but now he reached his thumb to circle your clit, sending you into your orgasm. He lapped at you gently through it, much gentler than he had just been. When you finally finished, he gave you a giant kiss and licked you one more time before lifting his head. Your hand stiffly left his hair and flopped back down beside you.

"Did I hurt you?" you gasped.

He shook his head, smiling. "No." He laughed a bit at your spent state. "Have fun?"

You nodded lazily, still breathing heavily. "Mhm."

He widened his eyes at you and took his finger, stroked you, and put it in his mouth. "Delicious. Got a feeling we're gonna be doing that a lot."

You smiled at him.

"Wanna taste?" he asked you, his eyebrow quirked.

You laughed out a breath in surprise. "Um--"

"Yeah, you do. Here, lemme--" He stopped, the devil in his eye as he gave you another long lick with his tongue. He climbed up onto you and held his tongue out for you to meet it with yours. In your post-orgasmic state, it only seemed a little outlandish, but this moment would distract you in lectures for the next week. You stuck your tongue to his and shut your eyes, tasting yourself and sealing your kiss.

His hands rubbed your sides. "Hm, babe?"

You were so dazed, you didn't even really register the taste. All you could think of was that he just fucked you with his tongue.

You draped your arms around his shoulders. "I love you, Harry."

He kissed your cheek. "Love you, too, baby." He finally laid his head on one of your breasts. Your hand lost itself in his curls, much tamer than you had been minutes ago.

Minutes passed and he kissed your cleavage. You looked down at him, your brain fog cleared now, to find tears streaming down his face.

You frowned. "Oh, Harry..." you pouted softly.

He shook his head, sniffling.

"No, go ahead and cry. I know it's... It's unfair. I'm sorry." Your other hand stroked his face gently. "She fucks everyone over. Don't take it personal." You moved your hand down from his hair and rubbed circles in his back with your palm. 

He let out a shaky breath. "I'm... I should go. I don't want to make you upset," he said, clearing his throat and beginning to sit up.

You blinked. "Make me upset? Harry, I'm not that immature. I know it sucks to be cheated on, regardless of who or when," you told him. "You can stay overnight and just lay here. I really don't mind it. I'd actually rather prefer it."

He took a big breath and put his face in his hands. "All right," he said after a second. "Okay. Just... Just gotta grab my phone and set an alarm. What time is your first class tomorrow?" he asked you. "I don't want to make you lose out on sleep."

"Ten, and it's only like eleven o'clock right now," you answered. "Not bad. And my mates are gonna be far worse than me, out drinking like idiots."

"No, not at all, but I've gotta wake up at like five," he said.

You widened your eyes. "Five? Whatever for?" you asked, shocked.

"Gotta run back to mine and change before work. I have to be there at seven tomorrow," he said.

"You hung up your suit, Harry, and you can shower here," you reminded him.

"Can't wear that suit. I need a tie and a jacket," he replied, standing up and leaving your room to grab his phone.

"Grab mine too, will you? And the wine if you really love me," you called, wondering how much money he really made. You knew Harry had a real adult job, but damn--A suit and tie for every day? Seven A.M. start time? And three grand to throw at your sculpture...

He returned back into your room, eyebrows raised as he looked at you, probably to distract from the fact he was still sniffling.

He set the bottle of wine down on your nightstand along with your phone and crawled back into bed, his head resting on your boob again. "Poor baby," you moped. 

He cleared his throat, snuggling against you. 

You kissed his head. "There, there," you said softly. You traced your fingers over his face. "You just cry as much as you need to. I'm right here, and you know what? I'd never do that to you, Harry," you told him. "I'd never... I'd never cheat on you," you said sincerely.

He nodded slowly, shutting his eyes.

You thought he was falling asleep, laying there so peacefully for a minute, until he spoke up. "Y/N," he said.

"Hm?"

"I love that sculpture, baby. 's great."

"Thank you, Harry." You cleared your throat. "Harry, what do you think it means if we can't go on a date without spending the night?"

His eyes flickered up at you. "Dunno. But I like you a lot. I like spending time with you," he told you. 

You nodded. "I like spending time with you, too."

He grabbed onto your hand and ran his thumb over the top of it like he did in the car on your first date last week. "I was thinking," he started slowly, yawning.

"Yeah?"

"I was thinking... Maybe I'd hop over to Greece this weekend. And I think we could use some time alone. Thoughts?" he asked you.

You blinked. Hop over to Greece. Jesus Christ. "Um... Harry, I don't really have the funds to--"

"I'm paying. Just a matter of if you're busy or what. Or if you wanna go with me," he said. "We'd stay at this place I go, just a little hotel near a beach in Santorini. Got your passport?" he asked.

"Yeah, I do. I just..." you trailed. "Can I think on it?" That was a lot more money for him to spend on you, and a lot of commitment and trust to leave the country with him on a whim.

"Yeah. Yeah, course. I just... I wanna leave Friday," he told you. "Friday night."

You nodded. "Okay. I can let you know."

"'ve you got homework?" he asked you. "So adorable, homework," he remarked quietly.

Actually, it was nearing the end of the semester, so you did, as work was piling up. But your classes with finals could wait, and you had actually gotten a headstart on your final projects because you'd finished your pieces for the gallery so soon. You needed to do at least some coursework over the weekend, though, certainly.

"Yeah, loads," you answered, just as an excuse. He seemed so casual about taking you on a trip out of the country. You'd never been on holiday with a man before. Did he think of you this seriously?

"You could do it on the trip, no problem. Only difference from London is we'd just have the beach and better food nearby," he figured. "And a room to ourselves..." he trailed, tracing his fingers along your stomach.

You nodded. "Yeah, okay. Sounds fun. Just... I'll let you know, just to be sure," you said.

He groaned all of a sudden, stretching his neck.

"You good?"

"Mm, yeah. Trying to get comfy," he replied.

"What, my boob not doing the job?" you asked.

He smiled at your joke.

"Maybe it's that I've been lying here naked and you are so painfully clothed," you suggested.

He shook his head at your antics, sitting up then and discarding the hookup shirt on the floor. "Better?"

"Much," you replied.

He resumed his spot on your chest and kissed your breast. "Sorry. Didn't mean to be rude," he murmured politely yet humoredly.

You sat in silence a bit longer, and you wished you knew how to shut up. "Another question," you voiced.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"What's with... Um, when you call me little Y/N--"

"Hm?" He seemed eager that you brought this up.

"What do you mean by that?" you asked him.

He looked up at you. "What do you think I mean?"

You reddened. "Well, is it little in comparison to Jane, or--"

"No!" he exclaimed. "No, 's not. Not at all."

"Well, you never called her it. So what's different with me?" you asked.

"Y/N, if you must know, I positively called Jane little Jane," he said to you.

"No, you did not," you contradicted.

"I never called her it in front of her little sister and her parents because that would be inappropriate," he said quietly. He smiled. "'s a little sexy, no? Little Y/N?"

Your face heated.

"What do you think it means, baby? Tell me." His smile was mischievous and flirty and hungry. Sexy.

You shook your head.

"What? You brought it up," he prompted cheekily. "Tell me. You know."

"Means I'm..." you tried. "Means you're--"

"Means I'm what?" he smirked.

Just then, you heard your flat door open. Your flatmates. Fuck.

"And then, I said, 'What the fuck do you mean?'" 

Carla.

Harry shut his eyes, laying back down onto you.

"You've got to be up in six hours," you murmured.

"'m fine." He draped his arm across your stomach, and you pulled the covers up over his head in a pathetic effort to drown out the noise.

"And she was like, 'Well I just--'"

"Carla!" you yelled. "Hush!"

Adrienne murmured something and Carla murmured back and then it was quiet.

"Thanks, babe," he mumbled.

"Mhm. Night, Harry. Love you."

"Love you back, Y/N."  
-  
The next morning, Harry's alarm went off at 5am sharp. He rolled off you and got out of bed groggily.

You mumbled grouchily, about to grab the covers and flip over when he kissed your forehead. "Sorry, love. Gotta run. Talk soon," he said quietly, leaving your room. He grabbed his phone from the table and left your room without another word.

You heard him mumble something before he opened your flat door and left.  
-  
When your alarm went off at an appropriate time for humans to be conscious, you got up out of your bed. You grabbed your phone and saw a notification from Venmo.

Private payment from HS. "Dress and clothes for Greece." Three hundred pounds.

He sent you three hundred pounds.

Not even beginning to process what the fuck that was, you locked your phone.

And Greece. Fuck, Greece. You almost thought he'd have forgotten when you weren't laying together after the best orgasm of your life.

You needed to decide if you were going or not before you could even think about the hundreds of pounds he sent you for fucking clothing, apparently.

You set your phone back down on your nightstand, not wanting to think of it, and headed out of your room. 

Adrienne was eating grapefruit on the loveseat. "So," she greeted you.

You looked back at her. "So?" You paused. "Good morning."

"So, I saw Mr. Styles donning the sex outfit this morning while I was getting ready to go out on a run," she said. “I was stretching here in the living room when he came stumbling out of your room. He wished me good morning quite awkwardly. He shoved his feet into his dress shoes and grabbed his suit from the closet before he scurried on out. And if I'm not mistaken, he was a little flushed. Adorable, really.”

"You ran this morning?" you asked, disgusted. "You were drinking last night!"

"Anyways," she breezed past you, "how was it last night?"

You really took that question into consideration before laughing. "I sucked him off in a car park," you said.

Adrienne's jaw dropped. "Jesus, are you two ever going to do it in a bed?"

"That's where he got busy," you shared with a Cheshire grin.

"You mean he--"

You nodded, reddening.

"Oh my God. Carla's gonna shit. That's what she gets for not scheduling any classes before noon," Adrienne said.

You rolled your eyes. "She's... special. How was last night?" you asked.

"Almost got into another famous pub brawl," Adrienne told you.

"No," you replied, frowning. "Why does she think she can fight when she's--"

"Shitfaced? I have no idea," Adrienne raged. "It blows."

You nodded sympathetically.

"Almost as hard as you in Harry's Volvo," she quipped then and you wrinkled your nose.

"Adrienne!" you chastised.

"What? I couldn't help it," she replied. "But tell me: the sex. Was it--"

"We didn't," you interrupted. "I thought I told you. No sex for us for a month. I don't know what idea he has of me," you said. "Apparently I'm too innocent or something."

"Yeah, I honestly don't get it," she said. "Officially. Like... What's the point?" she asked.

You shrugged, putting your face in your hands. Harry, Harry, Harry... And she didn't even know the half of it. Greece and Venmo and little Y/N...

"I have to get ready for class," you announced finally.

"But first," Adrienne said with importance.

You frowned, confused.

"We definitely have a new record for who looks best in the sex getup. I'm gonna be honest, Y/N, I never knew you had it in you."

You beamed.

"He has to bring it back, though," she said seriously then. "I don't care how great his ass looks in those sweats--they're superstition."  
-  
After a few lectures, you decided to stop for lunch to pause and think on some things. You needed to sort your mind out and figure out what was going on with Harry before you could even begin deliberating whether or not to go to Greece with him. And you needed to come up with that answer fast because he needed to book the airline for Friday.

Now to take inventory...

He never contacted you outside of your dates with him. He sent you three hundred pounds to spend on clothes for a vacation abroad was also paying for. He was so charming towards you and your mates, and so attentive in bed. He also was so sensitive towards your feelings about Jane and your art, but he could snap at you in a second. And he wouldn't fuck you.

What was his angle? 

You sat down with your sandwich and drink when your phone buzzed. You flipped it over and your heart nearly stopped.

“You honestly thought I wouldn’t find out?”

Jane.

You dropped your phone on the table, shaking. How did she know? Did Molly lie?

You took a deep breath and called her. You knew this was coming eventually. You might as well get this conversation over with now. And, honestly, after last night, you felt more secure with Harry. Maybe the details were fuzzy, but you felt more stable in his love. He cared for you, and he meant that. You were ready to defend your relationship.

“Y/N, you slut!” she answered the phone. “Of all the men on the planet—“

“He loves me!” you lashed out with much less maturity in your tone than you would’ve liked. You practically whined it into the phone.

“Oh my God,” Jane said, and you could hear her roll her eyes. “Harry doesn’t love anyone, Y/N, that’s the point.”

What a bitch.

“Just because you couldn’t treat him right doesn’t mean he’s defective, Jane. It actually means you are,” you snapped.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Jane asked.

“You cheated on him! Inside another relationship, better yet,” you exclaimed. “Molly saw us and didn’t tell you because of it. Sucks to suck, doesn’t it?” 

“Yeah, well, thankfully, Molly can’t keep her mouth shut and ran and told Pepper, who told me, so it got around,” Jane retorted. “And don’t even get me started on infidelity and Harry Styles, Y/N. You have no idea,” she said more solemnly.

“What do you mean?” you asked, dumbfounded and taken out of the argument for the moment.

“If you are under the impression that he’s with you and you only, you’re wrong,” she said. “He couldn’t even keep it in his pants when we were dating. Until he tells you otherwise, he’s sleeping around,” she told you. “And even when he tells you otherwise, he’s hiding girls. There’s always a secret with him.”

Your face fell and you took a second trying to recover. “Well, we’re not official, but we... We love each other,” you blurted out.

Jane scoffed. “You blew him, didn’t you?”

You didn’t reply.

“I can hear it in your voice. You sucked him off like some idiot, thinking he really likes you. Good luck getting him to call you ever again,” she said. “Harry knows how to get what he wants from you, Y/N. He’s not the perfect boyfriend he wants you to think he is. And you can call me mean, but he certainly doesn’t keep girls like you around. Once he’s used you, he’s done. Trust me, plenty of little losers like you with flat chests and adult acne came and went over the course of my two years with him. Don't ask why he wastes his time, but he does,” she said callously. “Bottom line, Harry would never stay with someone like you, Y/N. I mean... What are you going to do when he asks you to call him Daddy? You know that’s coming, right? Please tell me you aren’t that clueless.”

You simmered angrily for a moment, ready to explode on her but desperately trying not to. Maybe Harry was the most adventurous sex you'd had, but that didn't mean you couldn't please him. And who was Jane to decide that?

You almost called him it last night. 

“He’s taking me to Greece this weekend,” you announced proudly instead.

“Sounds about right. That's where he can hide you from whoever else he's got with him and get a few good fucks in before he takes you back home and disappears forever. Have fun,” she drawled.

Your face was red, and a tear rolled down your face. “I will, Jane!”

“Just remember to wear a condom before you sell me out some more. You don't know where he's been,” she said cruelly.

"If I'm a slut, Jane, what are you?" you yelled into the phone, losing it finally.

She hung up. People were staring at you now.

“Bitch!” you exclaimed, glaring at your phone. You immediately texted Harry.

“I decided. Greece sounds lovely. When’s our flight out?”

You needed to go to the mall.  
-  
You took the tubes to go shopping, spending almost all the money Harry had sent you. You found a replacement dress for your ruined one and bought a nice swimsuit, a sundress, and a lounge set.

After two hours of shopping, you sat down on a city bench. Harry texted you.

"!! Yes!!! All right baby our flight's at 6pm Friday. I'll swing by yours at like 4 and we'll head out. Love ya!!!!!! Ready for a sexy beach vacation 😘😘😘😘"

You smiled down at your phone before you remembered what Jane had said. He'd cheated on her, and he was with other girls now. And he'd never stay with you.

"I love you Y/N and I'm so excited for this. Can't wait til its just us and the beach babe" he sent, interrupting your thoughts. You loved a man who double texted.

You smiled at the sentiment before your shopping bags weighed on your arms, plummeting your heart further in your chest. Harry really loved you, and you just spent his money on things you didn't need for a vacation he was paying for.

You frowned and texted back. "Harry I'm really sorry. I love you too but I just spent that money you Venmod me at the mall. I really shouldn't have done that and I apologize. You're already paying for this weekend. Give me a bit to figure it out and I can pay you back. I'm so sorry" You shut your eyes and let out a choked sigh. This was all just so confusing. Everything felt right when you were with him, but wrong when he wasn't there. Above everything, you hated the idea of him putting a price on you. Why the fuck would you go and buy all this stuff? You suppose you could return the things right now. At this moment, the check he wrote for your sculpture was burned into your brain, scolding your thoughtlessness.

"Y/N babe why would I send u that money if I didn't want u to spend it ...? Like I don't get it. What are u apologizing for" he texted you.

You blinked, sighing again.

"I'm glad you got some things you like. Can't wait to see what you picked out. Don't u dare worry about it. I'll see u Friday. Until then I love you. I love you I love you I love you. I mean it. I've never felt this way about anyone before."

Literal tears of relief came to your eyes.

Fuck Jane. She didn't know what she was talking about. Harry loved you. And just because maybe he was promiscuous in the past didn't mean he cheated on Jane. He was so upset last night when he found out about her betrayal; it would make no sense that he cheated on her. And you doubted Harry could say these things to you and be with that many other people. And finally, since when was Jane known to tell the truth? She didn't fess up to Molly when she fucked her over.

She was just jealous, jealous that her little sister was treating him right.

"I love you too Harry and thank you so much for Greece, for the clothes. I can't wait to be with you too, away from everything else. I'm so happy you're with me. Sorry I just got worried, I'm not used to things like this. Vacations and shopping money and stuff. Thank you. I feel the exact same way about you, I promise. I love you so much." 

He loved your message back. "I understand lovey. Do me a favor and please don't worry about it though. Just focus on your classes and be ready when I come to get you on Friday. Our flight home on Sunday is at 10pm. Your first class on Monday isn't until the afternoon, right? We'll land in London at midnight, two hours time difference."

"Thank you Harry. I will. And the flight is good. Can I ask one small favor though?"

"What's that baby"

"Can you bring back the outfit I lent you when you come to pick me up? My flatmates like to lend them to guys they take home. Kind of tradition" 

"You're so fucking hot. Yeah I'll bring them back."

You took a deep breath and stood up to walk out of the shopping mall. It was time to return to your flat for the day.   
-  
By the time Friday rolled around, Harry hadn't texted or called you since Wednesday. It took around a thousand conversations with Carla and Adrienne to convince you that going to Greece was a good idea. You just had an awful feeling about it.

"When you see him, you're going to feel so silly," Carla said. "You love him, Y/N. You're going to Santorini with your boyfriend. It's supposed to be fun."

"He's not my boyfriend," you corrected. You knew it was technically allowed, but the thought of Harry with anyone else really was beginning to bother you, too.

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, Miss I've Never Felt This Way For Anyone," she reminded you. "Read his messages again."

Adrienne nodded solemnly. "He's going to be here in an hour, and it'll be okay, Y/N. What's the worst that could happen?" she asked you. 

You nodded, ultimately agreeing. One thing you had figured out over the week was the reason you put so much pressure between you both. It was definitely just that you liked him so much. You just wanted everything to be perfect between you, and it wasn't, and it was frustrating. Maybe this weekend would fix everything. Carla was right, seeing him always made you feel so much better.

"Don't allow Jane's bullying to ruin a fun weekend," Carla told you. "And tell him to fucking text you every once in a while. Men are such idiots."

You took a deep breath. "What if..." you trailed. "What if I go and we come back and he doesn't call again? What if Jane's right?" you asked softly.

Adrienne and Carla looked at each other.

"Honestly?" Carla asked. "Like, you want my honest opinion."

"Yes," you replied.

"Then at least you got off by the fittest man I've ever seen. Honestly, Y/N, calm down. This is a win for you, remember that," she said.

You looked at Adrienne, annoyed by that response. Adrienne only shrugged, seeming to agree with Carla. "I don't understand why you're so nervous. It'll be fine," she said. "Do you have everything packed?"

You nodded. "Yes."

"All right. Let's just watch TV until he comes, then," she suggested, flopping onto the couch.

Your phone buzzed with a message from Harry. "Be there soon. Love ya baby"

You smiled. "Love you too" you replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank u to people who are reading this 🥺


	6. Every Rose Has Its Thorn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have more ideas of what to do in the story now :)))))))) don't know how it ends though yet

You opened the door for Harry and smiled at his presence. "You ready?" he asked you.

"Yeah," you replied, holding your suitcase.

"Here, let me take that," he instructed, grabbing it from you. He peeked his head in the door. "Hi, girls. How's uni?"

"Good," Carla replied automatically, a thousand-carat smile dazzling her face. 

"And Adrienne?" he asked.

She reddened, making you turn away annoyedly. Could they be more obvious? "It's... It's going," she answered shyly.

He took his hand from behind his back to produce a freshly laundered hookup outfit. "I've got your man clothes," he announced proudly. "Y/N told me all about your little game. You lot are a bit naughty."

Now Carla blushed along with Adrienne much to Harry's delight. He was relishing in this.

You finally snatched the outfit off him and set it on the armrest of the couch. "Okay, let's go," you asserted.

Harry smirked at you a second. "Okay. Bye, ladies," he called.

"Bye, Harry!"

"Bye, girls. See you Monday morning," you said, following Harry out the door and shutting it behind you. "Quite the ladies' man, are you?" you quipped.

"It's only a little funny," he replied, lifting your suitcase to take it down the stairs.

You didn't answer.

He looked back at you. "No?" he asked.

"They're just... They're immature," you answered. You knew how he hated that word, and you thought maybe he'd agree with you.

"They're girls in school. It's just fun, Y/N," he assured you. He put your suitcase in his trunk and drove you to the airport.  
-  
Your flight was fine. You slept most of the time, your head against Harry's arm. You didn't think he slept much, but you figured maybe he was planning to sleep in at the hotel. You were landing at midnight Santorini time; there'd be plenty of time to sleep before starting the day Saturday.

Your journey had been a little quiet ever since you left the house. You weren't sure if Harry sensed your slight irritation or not.

You woke up from your slumber by the plane's wheels touching the tarmac. You flinched, opening your eyes to find Harry looking down at you concernedly. "It's okay," he said softly. "Just landing, babe."

You smiled at that, you nuzzling your nose in his bicep until it was time to stand up and exit the plane. 

You rubbed your face as you left the airport, feeling groggy from being woken up so suddenly. "Taking a cab?" you asked through a yawn, wheeling your luggage alongside Harry.

He shook his head. "Got a rental car."

"Harry, we're gonna be here for two days," you told him.

He shrugged. "I like driving different cars," he replied. 

You didn't argue, figuring that he was paying for the trip and he could make decisions, however ridiculous they were. Twenty minutes passed and you were sitting in a black BMW. You couldn't help but roll your eyes as you put your seatbelt on.

"Sexy, yeah?" Harry asked, his smile very telling as he felt the leather of the steering wheel. "You like it?" he asked you when you didn't reply after a few seconds.

You nodded. "It's a nice car."

"Yeah, it is." He plugged his phone into the sound system and handed it to you. "Play something."

You unlocked his phone and glanced up at him, remembering your first date not long ago. So much had changed since then.

You scrolled to find his Spotify app and paused. He had Tinder on his phone, too. You didn't know if he had it on your first date and you just didn't notice, or if he had downloaded it since then.

What most concerned you was the 34 notifications marking the corner of the app.

He was backing the car out of the spot, not focusing on you. You clicked on his app to find that he was messaging girls as close as two hours ago, while he was on the plane with you. While you were sleeping on his arm.

"You're a pig," you blurted out, scrolling through his matches.

That got his attention. "What?" he asked, turning around to look at you.

You shoved his phone in his face. "Flirt with my mates before we leave, message random girls on our flight... You heard what I said, you're a pig!" you shouted.

He took a deep breath, grabbing his phone from you. "Y/N--"

"No!" You pouted, and not endearingly, not knowing how else to react. "Because Jane told me you were like this, and I didn't believe her! God, Harry! Why would you do this to me?" you asked him, tears coming to your eyes. "I actually love you, do you know that? I wouldn't just say that to sleep with you. I mean it when I say that."

"I mean it, too," he replied, looking at you sincerely. "I mean it, but--"

"Then who are they? Are they who you talk to during the week?" you asked. "Tell me," you cried. "Tell me why you need them if you apparently love me so much."

His face turned cold, the sympathy drained from his eyes. "I think you're forgetting that I never asked you to be my girlfriend," he told you. "I don't owe you shit, Y/N, do you hear me? I don't want to hear this. Are you fucking kidding me? I can do whatever I want," he said. "And what's this about Jane?" he asked. "Did she talk to you? Why didn't you tell me? I told you to call when she talked to you."

"You cheated on her, didn't you?" you asked, crying. "You cheated on her, and then had the audacity to cry and mope to me! 'Poor baby' my ass! You're... You're a liar, and I regret that you ever manipulated me into this," you said. "You used me."

"How so?" he asked you.

You rolled your eyes. "You sure knew where to hold that ice cream cone," you said, tears spilling down your face. "I can't believe... Why would you do this? Why would you... Who would do this to someone? You're insane," you rambled.

His face hardened at those accusations. "This is what I didn't want to happen," he said gravely, anger in his eyes.

"Right. You never planned on me finding out," you said. "Why would you tell me you love me? Why would you lie like that if not to hurt me? I would have slept with you regardless, Harry, and I mean that, but you didn't want us to for some reason, which I can only pinpoint as you deliberately tricking me into this. You didn't need to spend the money on me or tell me all of this bullshit, that you love me and..." you trailed, crying.

He looked about ready to hit something. "If I don't love you," he spoke harshly, "then what the fuck did I drop three grand on that piece of shit back in London for?"

You shrieked in anguish, and his face fell. "You... You asshole! I can't believe I ever thought this would work. You're a monster, do you know that?" you sobbed. "I hate you!"

He stared out of the windshield, listening to your cries momentarily before continuing to back out of the spot. 

"What the fuck are you doing?" you asked once he began driving out of the lot.

"Driving us to the hotel," he answered, unamused.

"You genuinely think I want to be here with you?" 

He shut his eyes in annoyance. "What else are you going to do?" 

You thought about it a second. You couldn't afford a flight home, and you didn't want him to pay for anything for you ever again. You had half a mind to return all of the clothes you brought once you got back and Venmo him back as your official final correspondence.

"Fine. Fine, but just... I'm working on my homework the whole time. And don't touch me," you warned him.

He glanced over at you, nodding once. Just a moment of his stare made you sob again and he rolled his eyes.

You couldn't believe it. Harry Styles was an asshole. Your ultimate man was a piece-of-shit cheater, a womanizer.

He parked at the overly extravagant hotel and got out silently. You followed suit, making a noise of discontent when he dared to hand you your bag from the trunk of the car instead of allowing you to get it yourself.

He scoffed. "Gonna be a long weekend," he murmured.

"Don't touch me, don't touch my stuff," you instructed.

"Brat."

"Dick." 

He grabbed his suitcase and shut the trunk before wordlessly heading into the entrance of the hotel. You followed behind him reluctantly, keeping your distance as he spoke with the concierge to retrieve the key for your room. He turned to you and handed you a card. "Here's the key. Don't lose it," he told you.

"Obviously," you replied.

He shook his head disapprovingly before you took the elevator together to your room. He opened the door for you and you thanklessly entered to find a singular bed. Of course. 

You turned around to find he had discarded his shirt. You snorted.

"Oh, shut up! I'm sleeping, finally," he growled, shoving his pants down and throwing them aside before getting under the covers. "Please just be quiet until morning."

"I'm changing in the toilet," you told him quietly, not staying to observe his reaction and grabbing your suitcase to do just that. You faced yourself in the mirror, shutting the door behind you.  
You couldn't help it. You put your face in your hands and cried. You considered phoning Carla or Adrienne, but you felt so much shame and rage over the situation that you didn't think that was a good idea right now. 

You gave yourself a five minute grace period before actually getting ready for bed. You brushed your teeth and washed your face, deciding that if you slept in these clothes on the plane, they'd work for a five-star hotel bed as well.

You exited the toilet, leaving your suitcase there apathetically. You had told him that you were going to do coursework all weekend long, but you also knew that your motivation was severely damaged. You had half a mind to sleep for the duration of your stay.

You flopped onto the bed.

"Jesus," he murmured.

You pulled the covers up over you and dramatically hugged the edge of the bed. You weren't going to be feeling his boner against you when morning came, that was for sure. You held a pillow overtop your face and resisted the urge to scream.

What the fuck?  
-  
Your shoulders shook gently. "Y/N."

You opened your eyes and pushed the pillow off your face to find Harry looking down at you. "Breakfast is over downstairs in an hour," he informed you. He walked away from the bed and you looked over at him, shirtless and wet.

"Go to the beach?" you asked without thinking.

He glanced back at you, grabbing a towel. "Yeah. Early swim. Weather's nice."

You didn't reply, getting up out of bed.

"Breakfast is really good here," he said casually.

"I'm not talking to you," you established.

He shook his head. "You don't want to talk about this?" he asked. 

"I don't have any interest in conversating with a narcissist," you replied, about to enter the toilet, when he grabbed your wrist. You looked up at him, scared and anticipating.

"You at least need to know how to get to the beach," he said, but his gaze told you he'd wanted to say something more emotionally involved than that.

No. Impossible. He cheated on your sister and apparently valued you at thirty-three hundred pounds and a Greek holiday weekend.

"I'll manage," you told him, breaking from his hold. "And I said not to touch me." You entered the toilet wordlessly.  
-  
You came back upstairs from an annoyingly delicious breakfast to find Harry reading in the desk chair, facing the window's gorgeous view.

"Want me to show you where the beach is?" he asked.

"Do you ever listen?" you snapped. "I told you I can find it on my own."

"I'm sorry, do you speak Greek?" Harry asked you, returning your unkind tone.

You blinked.

"It's a bit of a walk. I don't want you to get lost," he explained.

Your phone rang. Mum. 

You glanced up at him and he was back to reading his book. You answered the phone. "Hello?" 

"Y/N," your mum said. "Y/N, how are you?"

You sighed. "I'm... I'm good, Mum. How are you?" 

"Could be better if my daughter remembered to invite her family to her art showings," she replied.

Fuck.

"Mum--"

"No, Y/N. Your father was meeting someone across town for lunch yesterday, and that's how he saw that the gallery was up! I didn't even get a chance to see anything," she complained.

"I'm sorry, Mum. I've just been so busy," you said, chastising yourself. You should have made time this week to meet your parents at the gallery.

"But that's not what I'm calling about," she told you. "Although I am rather disappointed."

"No?" you asked.

"Y/N, your father said that a gallery attendant told him Harry Styles has bid three grand on one of your pieces," she said. "A sculpture. He said it was the first one in the show."

"Oh," you replied, trying to sound surprised. "I heard that I earned a commission on that piece, but they didn't tell me who bids on it for confidentiality." That sounded legit. "That's odd," you added for good measure.

Harry was definitely listening in on your call.

"Why would he buy your sculpture? Does he know it's yours?" she asked.

"I don't know, Mum. I assume he saw my name underneath it before he bid on it," you answered.

"Well, I'd rather he didn't and he bought it because he truly liked it," she replied, and that hurt a little. You knew just what he thought of it now.

"I don't know," you repeated softly.

"Jane says he might be doing it to get attention from her," she said.

"He might," you agreed, still quiet. You had no explanation for your sister's mischief. You were only grateful she hadn't divulged the truth to your parents.

"Y/N," your Mum beckoned. "Y/N, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, Mum. Just... Strange."

"It is. You're sure you don't have any idea?" she asked.

You wished you did.

"No, I don't. I have no idea why he'd buy my sculpture," you stated.

Harry hung his head.

You spun around so you didn't have to engage.

"You sound a little blue, babe. Why don't your father and I come and take you to lunch and you can show me pictures of your pieces?" she asked.

Fuck again.

"Funny story, Mummy," you said awkwardly. "I... Actually, my girlfriends and I decided to head out to Santorini for the weekend."

"Y/N!" she exclaimed. "How are you paying for this?"

"I'm... The money from my commission," you answered. "And... And it's this place that Adrienne's uncle has, actually. We're just spending money to eat, and the plane tickets," you lied through your teeth. How were you doing this so flawlessly?

She laughed incredulously. "You mean to tell me you left the country without telling me?"

"Yes, Mummy. I know it sounds awful, but I really didn't think of it. We only planned it Tuesday," you said. "It was so last minute." That was the truth.

She didn't reply for a moment. "All right. As long as you're safe. And you're returning in time for class, yes?"

"Yes, I am. I'm really sorry, Mum. Like I said, I've just been so busy," you said.

"Okay, Y/N. Listen, I'll let you go. Just send pictures, all right? And have fun. I have to say, though, Y/N, I am disappointed. First your art show, and now this..." she trailed.

"I know, Mummy. Really. I'm sorry," you said, your heart aching.

She sighed. "It's okay, Y/N. Talk soon. Love ya, bye."

She hung up and you set your phone on the bed, silent.

"It'll be okay," Harry spoke up after a second.

"I don't lie every day like some people," you said, tying your hair in a ponytail.

"When did I lie?" he asked you.

"Why do you care what I think of you? Can't you find someone else to manipulate while we're here? I'm sure Greek girls use Tinder," you said.

He stood. "Let's go to the beach." He set his book on the desk.

You didn't reply.

"Come on. You need to be shown the way. We don't have to talk."

That sounded agreeable.

"Okay."  
-  
"You lied when you conveniently left out cheating on Jane, you lied when you said you cared about me, and you lied when you said you liked my sculpture," you listed, your feet heavy as you lifted them from the sand to walk.

He looked up at you, having been walking silently on the beach for fifteen minutes now. "So you're mad that I was upset when I found out Jane cheated," he began.

"Not that you were upset. That you acted like some kind of victim and let me fawn over you when that clearly isn't the case, and that you just literally didn't tell me. You let me think you're some kind of knight in shining armor," you said. "You... You made me trust you with this whole no sex thing, but--"

"I wasn't crying because she cheated, I was crying because... Because of course she fucking did, Y/N. I was crying because I spent two years with someone I don't care about and doesn't care about me either. I... I want... I want something real and wholesome and honest, something that I've never had. Something I've never committed myself to because I'm... I'm not a good person," he said. "And... And excuse me if I wanted to maybe keep that part of myself from you for a while. You... You like me, Y/N. You always have. I just... I want to be as perfect as you think I am. I want to try for you," he told you.

"You aren't trying very hard," you said, gesturing to his phone he held in his hand.

"We aren't together," he stated.

"The things you've said to me..." you trailed. "Harry, I can't help but feel betrayed by you."

"I mean them," he said. "I mean them. I've never... The way I feel about you--"

"Don't," you cut him off. "Don't, it's insulting. Don't lie."

The waves washed over your feet, finally reaching them after creeping their way up the beach your whole walk.

"I'm not."

"Actions are louder than words," you mumbled.

"I care for you," he said. "I'm willing to... To negotiate. If you want to be exclusive, then we can be. This is why I didn't want to have sex--because I knew you'd be upset like this," he said.  
You didn't reply. Things were starting to make some sort of sense. You still didn't want to dignify him with a response.

"And your sculpture," he said slowly after a minute. "Your sculpture... Is amazing, Y/N. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry, and--"

"Could you make up your mind?" you asked him. "Because, Harry... I don't want it anymore, it's yours. You've officially ruined it for me. Are you happy?"

"No," he answered you. "Look. What you said to me hurt, and... I just... I wanted to hurt you back," he admitted quietly.

"You call me immature," you observed humorously. "You're a toddler."

"Y/N."

"Hm."

He stopped, looking at you. "I love you. I mean it. I wouldn't lie about that."

You laughed. "Now I know why you've been so nervous. You've been lying to me this whole time. You honestly think I'd want to be with you now?" you asked him.

His face fell. 

"Jane told me you wouldn't talk to me again after this trip," you continued. "Was that your plan? Because it's going pretty smoothly."

"She's only saying that because she's jealous and she doesn't know how I feel," he said.

"Oh yeah? Because she said you cycled through lots of girls like me while you were together," you said.

"Girls like you," he repeated. "What do you mean like by that?"

"In Jane's words, girls with flat chests and adult acne," you said quietly.

"Y/N--"

"No, Harry. This was too good to be true. You know it, I know it... You don't have to stand here and lie and tell me you love me," you said. "I'd rather hear the truth."

He grabbed your hands. "I already told you that."

Your dress flapped in the wind along with his hair.

He looked at you awhile before frowning. "Why is she so mean to you? You're gorgeous, do you know that? I hate her. I hate her for what she's done to you," he said.

"It's not mean if it's true," you replied.

"No," he said, pulling you into his embrace. "There, there, Y/N. I love you so much, don't you know it? Don't you know how I care for you, baby?" he asked softly. 

You sighed into his chest, listening to the wind and waves thrash.

"I promise. I promise I... I want to be better for you. I wanna be someone... Someone you can trust, can count on. Someone you want to be with." 

You cried into his chest and you felt his posture worsen.

"If you don't... If you aren't interested in dealing with my shit, I get it. I just... I love you, Y/N. I've never been more sure of anything. Everything I've done... I didn't tell you about cheating on Jane, I insisted we not have sex, I kept those girls from you... It's only just been in hopes of protecting you, of maybe being someone you could be proud of. Obviously, I'm not, and... And it came out. But I mean it. I would never..." he trailed, laughing. "Fuck, it sounds awful. I would never do what I did to Jane, what I've done to anyone, to you."

You pulled away from him, tears in your eyes. "How am I supposed to trust that?" you asked.

He shrugged, crying now too. "I love you. And I'm sorry."

You let go of his hands and he sobbed, covering his face. 

"I've loved you... I've loved you for the longest time. You're... You're kind and smart and honest and ambitious and fucking beautiful. You have the biggest heart and the best intentions. You care for Jane when she's wretched towards you. How could I not love you?" he asked, the same question you asked him when he first pursued you. "And I'm... I'm the worst for asking you to forgive me, I know. I don't want to seem like I'm taking advantage of your kindness. But... I just know that you love me, too, and I don't want to waste that."

You stepped away from him and he cried some more. "This... It's just... It's too much," you told him. "I... I can't." You turned and sprinted back to the hotel.  
-  
You were two hours into reviewing, papers and books spread all over the hotel bed, when you got a text. You hadn't eaten lunch for many reasons: you didn't have much of an appetite from your big breakfast and your conversation on the beach and you didn't know how to go about getting lunch. However, it was later in the afternoon, and you knew you should eat soon, even if you weren't very hungry.

Your phone buzzed from its strategic spot on the desk across the room. You glared at it and decided you didn't need to check it. Two minutes and zero studying from your tired brain later, it buzzed again. You figured maybe it was time for a break. You walked over and read your text from Harry. "Have you eaten? I could take you out to dinner at this place I like"

You sighed. You really ought to get out of the hotel room and see Greece a bit after spending most of the day cooped up. And regardless of your feelings about Harry, you knew you'd regret skipping out on a delicious Greek meal when you ate at the dining hall back at school.

"No I haven't. Sure I'll come with you" you replied.

"Okay it's a nicer place. The dress you're wearing today will be fine though. I'm walking back from the beach now."

You blinked. He'd spent all this time at the beach.

"Okay I'll be ready" you texted, going into the toilet to do your makeup and fix your hair.

Harry entered the bedroom just as you were changing your shoes. "I'll need a minute," he said, which was obvious as he was soaked. He'd obviously went into the water because it wasn't raining.

He tore off his shirt and you shut your eyes, turning away. Your brain's distracted musings during your time studying had really tugged at your heartstrings, and you didn't trust yourself to see his gorgeous self right now. 

He cleared his throat. "I'll... I won't be long," he said, opening a closet and getting out a suit. You figured maybe he arranged his clothes while you were sleeping this morning. He went into the toilet, leaving you standing near the bed.

Carla texted you. "?? Adrienne and I are dying over here"

You shut your eyes, disappointed. You were less than excited to update them. You ignored the text and waited a minute longer for Harry to rejoin you in the bedroom. "All right, are you ready?" he asked you.

"Yes."

He nodded curtly. "Let's go." 

You followed him down to the car and your drive was silent until you got curious. "Where are we going?" you asked.

He smiled a little. "Honestly, I don't know the name. They don't speak any English. All I know is I went once on a whim and it's great. I have to go when I'm here now. It's traditional Greek food."

You nodded, looking back out the window.

You were seated in the restaurant and handed your menus.

They were written entirely in Greek. 

Harry perused the menu but glanced up at you once he realized you weren't looking at yours because you found it mostly useless. "Ah, fuck. Do you need help?" he asked.  
You nodded. "Do you speak Greek?"

"No. I've just been here a lot. Okay, let me show you," he said, turning his menu around and pointing out different things and explaining them. "Do you know what you want? I'll order it," he said.

"Yeah. The gyro platter sounds good," you said.

He nodded. "It is. They know me here, I can order. What do you want to drink?"

"Do they have Coke?"

"Yeah, they do." He scrunched his nose and pretended to look over the menu he was obviously very familiar with.

"What are you getting?" you asked in an attempt to make this less awkward.

"They've got this Mediterranean flatbread I always get," he said, and just then, a waitress came over to your table and exclaimed, "Mr. Styles!"

He grinned, his dimples showing. "Hi," he said. "Y/N, this is Helena."

Helena's eyes got big. "Another pretty girl," she commented, making your cheeks redden.

You've got to be fucking kidding.

"Girlfriend?" she asked Harry.

Harry shook his head. "No. No, just a friend," he clarified. 

"How are you?" she asked him, and they chatted for a while before Harry finally ordered. Helena left the table without taking much interest in you, and you wondered if Harry had been with her along with all the other girls he brought here.

"You come here often?" you asked when she was gone.

He looked back at you, shrugging. "Yeah, I guess. It's a nice place to come when I want to get away. She's the only one who speaks any English. They must have sent her over when they saw you."

You nodded. "Must be nice."

"What?" he asked, sensing your annoyance.

"To frequent here in Santorini. I'm just another pretty girl," you said.

He frowned. "It's not... Not like that."

"Jane said you'd bring me here to hide me, that that's what you always do," you told him.

"Can you stop acting like she is to be trusted just because you're angry with me?" he asked you.

"My sister and I may not get along, but we love each other, and I trust her if she was trying to warn me about you," you said. "And it doesn't look good for you that the waitress obviously recognizes that you bring your conquests here."

He shook his head. "You're a real winner, aren't you?" he asked you, smiling cruelly.

"What?" you asked.

Helena came back with your drinks. "Helena," Harry said. "Helena, my mother told me to tell you hello and ask how you are."

Helena gasped. "Ah, Ms. Anne! I wondered, why isn't she here?" she asked.

You looked to the floor. That was the other pretty girl, singular. His mother.

"I wanted to bring my friend this time, show her around," Harry said. 

Helena turned to you. "Are you having fun?" she asked.

Harry looked back at you, beckoning you to answer. "Yeah, I am," you replied shyly.

Helena looked over to Harry before turning back to you. "Okay. I'll be back with food." She walked away, leaving you alone with him.

He put a straw in his drink.

"I'm sorry," you said.

"'s fine," he replied.

"No," you said. "I'm sorry. That was mean." 

He nodded, signaling that he accepted your apology.

It was a thousand times more awkward now that you couldn't look at your menus and you'd humiliated yourself with a display of your spitefulness.

"You spent all day at the beach," you observed passively.

"Yeah. I'm on holiday," he said, stoic.

So he didn't want to talk. 

You glanced down at your nails.

"Would you like me to take your picture?" he asked.

You looked back up at him. "I'm sorry?"

He cleared his throat. "You look nice, very pretty. I thought you might like your picture taken." 

You stared back at him a second, confused.

"And your mum asked you for pictures, I heard," he said softly.

You nodded. "All right. You can take my picture," you allowed, fixing your posture.

He took out his phone and snapped a few. "Beautiful."

"Do you want yours taken?" you asked him.

He smiled, shaking his head. "No. My mum doesn't want photos of me."

"No?" you asked teasingly. "Why not? You're rather cute still."

He drummed his fingers on the table. "Just wait until you finish uni. You become a lot less interesting and cute, at least in my experience."

You frowned at that. "You haven't brung her here in a while?" 

"I did last month, actually. It's the only time I really spend with her," he said.

You glanced at him a moment before Helena approached, bringing your food out. "Here you are, Mr. Styles. I'll bring back your check soon. Enjoy your meal." She smiled at you a second before leaving you alone again.

You both spent some time eating in silence, you impressed by the quality of the food. "This is really good," you said after a while. 

"Yeah, I know. I can't believe I found it here by accident," he said.

"I can," you told him, and he glanced up at you, awaiting an explanation. "You know everywhere good in London. You're like... You should be a critic."

He smiled at that, obviously flattered. "Well, thank you. I try."

"Of course." You took another bite of your meal. "So, you come here often. Where else do you go?"

He quirked his brow. "I like to go out."

You smiled. "Where?"

"You know... The pubs."  
-  
An hour later, you were pushed centimeters from his face by crowds of people dancing to excessively loud dance music. 

He reached into his pocket, and you frowned confusedly. He opened his wallet and produced a foreign bill. Greek money, you guessed. 

He put the bill between his fingers and gestured to hand it to you. 

"What?" you asked.

"They don't take English currency here. You'll need it to drink." 

You blinked back at him. 

"Take it. I don't like to dance at these places. You'll get lost quickly, and you won't have money for drinks," he told you. 

You took the bill from him and frowned. You couldn't believe he really was about to leave you here.

"Meet me at the bar in... Let's say around an hour, yeah? And then we can go to the next place," he planned, speaking over the music.

You didn't reply.

"Yeah?" he asked you.

"Fine," you said back, though your attitude must not have registered.

He nodded. "Okay. I'll keep an eye on you from the bar. Run along," he instructed.

You did just that, spinning around and getting lost, as he called it, in the crowd of people. You realized around five minutes in that this was not going to be remotely enjoyable sober, people shoved onto the dancefloor, grinding and speaking in tongues you couldn't comprehend.

You made your way up to the bar and ordered a shot of tequila after several failed attempts to get the bartender to understand anything else you wanted to drink.

You employed that method at three other bars, ordering more shots at each place. Each time you switched clubs, you'd go to the bar, order your shots, drink them, dance until you met Harry at the time he set, and leave for the next place. You rarely ever saw him outside of when you'd finally spy him in the mass of people, waiting for you to meet him so you could leave. The places you visited got increasingly wilder as the night got later and people got drunker.

When you spied him at what ended up being the last stop of the night, you were appalled. You thought he told you he was going to be watching you. At the moment, he was very engaged in speaking with two skinny Greek girls, not witnessing the seductive movement of your drunken hips.

You decided you should go over there and get his attention, show those girls who he'd brought on this holiday. You moved glacially through the seas of people, for the first time really feeling how sloshed you were. You pushed that thought aside to ponder. How could you get Harry's attention once you were over there?

You were faced with him before your drunken brain could come up with a good answer. "Harry," you whined, shoving your hand into his and pressing your face against his bicep. You were sweaty, you noticed, your sweat sticking to his shirt.

"Hi, hon," he said nonchalantly, still focused on what a blonde girl was saying.

"Harry," you cried out again. Your hand groped and found his chest, palming it.

He didn't react.

"Daddy," you called out. That would get his attention.

He stiffened.

"Daddy, I need you."

He cleared his throat, trying to ignore you.

"Daddy!"

One of the girls started to giggle.

"One moment," he said to the women and turned to look down at you. "Shut up," he said in your ear.

"Daddy..." You looked up at him, pouting. "Wanna... Wanna be with you, Daddy." A sloppy hand came to touch his face.

"You're wasted," he said loudly.

You nodded. "Help."

He frowned at that. "You need water."

You shook your head. "Need you, Daddy."

He pulled you in and smacked you on the face--not hard, just enough to startle you. "Cut it out. Do you hear me?" he asked.

"I can't see," you cried because you couldn't.

"Your eyes are shut," he told you.

Holy shit, he was right. You opened your eyes to see him staring back at you sternly. 

"How much have you had to drink?" he asked you.

You pursed your lips, not wanting to tell him.

He rolled his eyes. "Y/N, tell me right now. How much--"

"Six shots of tequila," you answered, your mouth slack. Your stomach began to churn. "I think six, maybe more. I dunno."

"Fuck!" he exclaimed. "Fuck, are you kidding?" 

"Couldn't order anything else," you complained. "Daddy--"

He groaned. "Listen to me. Can you walk?" he asked you.

"I dunno," you whined. The prospect of him carrying you was quite attractive.

"What do you mean, you don't know? How did you get over here?" he asked you.

"Daddy--"

"Oh, fuck it," he growled, pulling you into him and hoisting you up. He glanced over at the two girls who had now been watching you both for a while. "Have a nice night. I've gotta get her back."

He wrapped his arms around your legs, hoisting you higher, and your stomach churned. "How in the fuck," he said to you, "did you drink six tequila shots? I've been watching you this entire time. I saw you drink three. I was gonna tell you you've been cut off when we went to the next place."

You groaned into his shoulder. "D--"

"If you call me that one more time or God forbid, you throw up, I'm going to leave you here on the street. Do you hear me?" he asked you.  
You cried.

He grumbled. "Shut up. You know I wouldn't do that," he said.

You whimpered. "I don't feel well."

"No shit." He sat you down and you realized you were outside. When did you leave the club?

He grabbed either side of your face. "Are you gonna puke before I walk you all the way back to the car?"

You gagged and he groaned, stepping away. "Go ahead. Shit, Y/N, are you fucking kidding me?"

You puked onto the concrete, hearing disgusted sounds from people standing on the block.

"Anyone got water?" Harry called.


	7. needy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is definitely a longer chapter but I wanted to get them home to London lol. Hopefully u guys like it:)

You woke up the next morning with a dull headache, not too bad. "Ouch," you mumbled habitually. You opened your eyes and found an empty bed. Maybe Harry was in the toilet.

The churn of your stomach made you wish he wasn't.

You stumbled out of bed, opened the door, and barely made it to the toilet bowl. But you didn't throw up. As a matter of fact, you felt better already, your eyes adjusting to the light and your stomach settling.

Devoid of anything else to do, you laid down on the floor. You breathed heavily, your mind bobbing like a toy boat in a seastorm. It felt cold, nice, your cheek against the tile. Restful.

You heard the bedroom door open. "Y/N?" 

He padded into the toilet quickly and immediately knelt down next to you. "Fuck!" He lifted you to face him and slapped your cheek a couple times as he did last night. 

"I'm awake," you groaned. 

"You're...?" he asked and sighed when you opened your eyes wider. "Holy shit. Holy shit, you could've been dead," he rambled.

"Where were you?" you cried, startled.

He looked at you a moment, taking you in. He stood up and wet a towel at the sink, kneeling back down and pressing it to your head. "Did you get my text? I went downstairs and got breakfast for us, some juice for you," he told you, placing your hand on the towel to hold it while he reached next to him to open the juice bottle you hadn't seen him bring in. 

You didn't reply.

"You don't look like you've read any texts," he said softly. "Fair enough." He held the bottle to your lips. "Open," he commanded.

You followed the instruction and he tilted it for you to drink. "There's a good girl. Better than last night, yeah? So drunk you couldn't open your mouth, scared me half to death," he murmured.

"I don't remember," you confessed, swallowing. 

"You don't remember? The medic was up here debating if we should pump your stomach," he said. "We had to gag you to get you to throw it all up. Apparently, we didn't get it all." He tilted his head to the toilet bowl.

"I didn't throw up just now. I feel... Okay," you told him honestly. He was about to tilt the bottle for you again, but you shook your head. "I can do it," you told him, moving your hands to grab the bottle and absentmindedly letting the towel slip onto your lap. You could sense his exhaustion. He was probably up all night with you.

He handed you the bottle and rubbed his eyes. "Six shots. Six shots would've made me sick, do you hear me? What the fuck were you thinking?" he asked you.

"Dunno. Got bored," you said.

"So you drank like a fucking fish?" he asked. "Shit, what would've been so wrong with a beer? Or at least something mixed?"

"You left me by myself, and I couldn't order anything else," you told him, matter-of-fact.

He frowned at you.

"It was scary," you said quietly.

"Come here," he told you, moving over to you and embracing you. You rested your head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

You cried. Holy shit. This was it. There was no way he'd ever get back with you now. He'd dealt with you drunk off your ass, puking and embarrassing him. Memories from last night came flashing into your mind, and you were mortified. Had you really called him that in front of all those people?

Why did you care again?

He kissed your hair. 

Oh, wait. Yup. That's why.

"I'm so sorry. You poor little thing. You helpless little dove." He smoothed your back. 

You hummed, relishing in this moment. He was so sweet.

You sniffled. "I'm sorry," you cried.

"It's all right. You're okay now, that's all that matters," he told you. "I've got breakfast. You need to eat something. I got ibuprofen, too, and some crackers and lots of juice. Drink more." He pulled apart from you and handed you the bottle again.

You drank more and sighed. You felt cooler now, much better.

"Now I know I fucking love you, if I didn't before," he mumbled, putting his face in his hands.

You paused, shocked. You didn't know if you heard him correctly. "What?" you asked.

"I stayed up all night making sure you were all right. I wouldn't let the medic sleep. She kept telling me you were fine, and then I'd call her up here again to check you another time. I took your temperature around three hundred times. I think I made you drink like a gallon of water altogether," he listed. "I woke up ten times to check if you were breathing. I couldn't sleep for more than an hour at a time. I'd just... I'd wake up worried about you, you know?"

You blinked back at him. That must've been why you felt okay. And he loved you. Still.

"I've never... Like, I've seen some drunk people, Y/N. I have never... I have never done that. Like, holy shit." He sighed. "How do you feel?" he asked.

"Fine," you told him. To prove your point, you stood perfectly normally, grabbing the juice and towel. "I feel... I feel good."

"Your face is still flushed. Put the towel to your forehead," he croaked out, looking up at you.

You followed his instruction, looking at yourself in the mirror. You brushed your teeth thoroughly, reapplying toothpaste several times. By the time you were done with your teeth, you felt a lot cooler and set the towel on the counter.

"You hungry?" He was still on the floor.

You nodded. "Yes. Let's eat." You spun and helped him up off the floor. He yawned, following you into the bedroom.

He sat on the bed and you took stock of what he'd brought upstairs. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, Harry, I'm fine. Let me do this," you told him.

You found two takeout containers for breakfast and handed him one, and then found both of you an orange juice and a fork and knife, too. You joined him on the bed and you both ate breakfast in silence. He looked half-dead.

"You should sleep," you told him, taking his container and garbage from his lap when he finished. "Do you have work tomorrow?" You threw away both of your trash.

He nodded.

"Then definitely, Harry, you need to sleep," you said. 

He didn't react, unexcited at the proposition.

"I know... I know you were probably looking forward to another day at the beach, but you're exhausted. It'd be unsafe to swim like this, so tired. You should rest. What time is it?" you asked, glancing over at the clock. "Oh, we have time. It's eight in the morning, Harry. Fall asleep. Fall asleep, I'll wake you up," you told him, sitting back on the bed. 

He nodded slowly, finally agreeing. He crawled to the top of the bed and went underneath the covers, smashing his face into a pillow.  
"I'm sorry, Harry," you said softly. You knew he was an early riser and apparently, he liked to spend all day at the beach. Not to mention the complete idiot you made of yourself the night prior.

"Don't apologize. Wake me up at ten," he grumbled.

You nodded. "Okay. I'm gonna do homework," you told him, taking in the gravity of the situation. 

You drank more than you ever had in your life last night, and you felt well-rested and healthy today. It was all because of how well he took care of you. You didn't even remember any of it. You leaned over and kissed the back of his head. "Thank you, Harry. Thank you very much."

You were still a little mad at him. He lied and cheated and said horrible things. But he apologized yesterday. And now, you knew he at least really did care for you. He wasn't lying about that.

"Yeah, babe. All good," he said groggily, and he fell asleep within seconds after that.

You got up to shower and change your clothes from your poor sundress. After you'd changed into your lounge set, you decided to see what was in the grocery bag Harry had brought. You opened it to find three large bottles of juice, ibuprofen, and crackers as he'd promised, and also a bag of marshmallows.

You smiled. He'd remembered you told him you liked them.

You opened the bag and got out your homework as Harry slept soundly on the other side of the bed.  
-  
You woke him up at 10:45. He was just so soundly asleep, you hated to wake him if he'd been up all night long.

You rubbed his back to startle him. "Harry," you said quietly. "Harry, it's time. It's almost eleven."

At that, his head snapped up. "Eleven?" he asked, jumping out of bed. "Got to swim." 

He was like a little boy.

He went over to the closet and opened it, his eyes searching frantically. "My trunks. I know I brought a second pair." He looked over at you. "My trunks," he stated sorrily.

You'd never seen him so adorable. You got out of bed and walked over to search the closet with him. His swimming trunks did not appear to be inside. "What about your suitcase?" you asked.

He nodded, walking over and unzipping it. "There," he said, pulling them out of a zipped compartment. Without thinking, he pulled down his pants and underwear at once, making you blush and turn away. He stepped into his shorts and pulled them up, finally looking up at you. "Oh, sorry," he said, realizing. It seemed like this moment finally woke him up from his slumber.

You shook your head. "No. No, it's fine," you said.

"Wanna come swimming?" he asked you. 

You both looked over at the mess of papers and textbooks on your side of the bed.

"Yeah," you replied. "Yeah, I'll change. Just a minute." You got out your bikini from your suitcase and locked yourself in the toilet. This was something you bought for him to see you in before... Well, before recent events.

You couldn't go swimming without it, though. So you changed into the swimming suit and put your lounge clothes back on top of it. Your opinion of him had changed since 24 hours ago, but you still didn't feel comfortable walking nearly naked the whole way to the beach with him. You'd wait until you got into the water, thank you very much.

You opened the door to find him sitting on the bed, waiting for you. "I'm ready," you told him, slipping on your shoes.

"I want to apologize," he announced a little gravely for your taste.

You sighed. You didn't think you could handle a repeat of yesterday's beach discussion. "Harry, we already--"

"No, I need to. I... I should never have left you by yourself last night," he said. "It was stupid of me. I told myself I'd watch you, but obviously, I didn't watch you well enough. I hate... I hate to think of what could've happened," he said lowly. "I just knew you were still upset with me, and you wouldn't want to dance with me, so I let you go on your own. That was a mistake. I apologize."

"It's not your fault I drank so much," you told him. "I was the stupid one."

He shook his head. "Someone could've hurt you or taken you," he said. "I did not protect you well enough, and I'm sorry."

You chortled. "All right. I forgive you, I suppose."

"What's funny?" he asked.

You shrugged. "Protecting me. Kind of old-fashioned."

He maintained eye contact. "I brought you on this trip. You're my responsibility."

"I'm an adult, Harry. However much I sometimes act like a child..." you trailed. "I'm sorry, too. Sorry for... For embarrassing you, for drinking so much. I think I remember... Remember some of what I said, and I..." You reddened. "I'm just sorry."

He walked over to you and kissed you on the forehead. "Forgiven. I'm happy to see you healthy."

You looked up at him, took a short, deep breath, and kissed him on the mouth. It was probably a terrible idea. 

But your hands came to feel his arms, and no, it wasn't. Fuck, he felt good.

You pulled away from him, and he refused to meet your eyes, but stayed very still, close to you.

You kissed him again and he barely reacted. He barely met you halfway, careful to keep the kiss from escalating.

Fine. So much for him loving you.

You awkwardly pulled away and grabbed sunblock from your purse on the desk. "Okay. I'm ready."

"Ready for the beach?" he asked, smiling at you.

"Mhm."  
-  
You walked to the beach in silence.

When your feet hit the sand, you instinctually made your way towards the water. "Your picture?" Harry called after you.

You turned around, shrugging. "Sure." You stood and smiled and he took a few of you.

"All right. Now strip," he yelled out a bit loudly for your taste, like he was testing your reaction.

No one on the beach seemed to mind. You slowly took off your loose-fitting shorts and shirt.

He smiled, snapping some more. 

"Take one with me," you said before you even realized it.

He smiled and joined you. His hand reached around you and squeezed your hip. He took the selfie, your smiles looking relaxed and genuine. You could tell it was a good picture. He locked his phone and placed it back into his beach bag, and then dropped the whole thing on the sand.

"Race ya," he proclaimed, sprinting to the water, throwing his shirt on the ground.

You shrieked and ran after him into the water.

"Boo," he called to you, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Slow," he taunted.

You shook your head at him. "You really are a child, you know that?"

"'Least I'm not a slowpoke," he replied, his eyes widening at you as he took you in.

"Mm, what am I?" you asked him, feeling a little dangerous. His eyes kept flickering down to your chest.

But of course not. He simply put his hand atop your head, shoving you underwater. When you submerged, spitting out saltwater, was when he answered your question. "A big baby!" he teased before swimming deeper, past where you could stand.

You shrieked at the offensive name and chased after him, wanting to dunk him somehow. But he was way taller than you, and a great swimmer.

It took a while for you to catch up to him, treading water and waiting for you. Once you did, you pathetically pushed down on his head, breathless. He didn't budge. As a matter of fact, he laughed. "You poor little thing," he cackled. "Oh, little Y/N," he moped.

He was bullying you again, and with that name... You felt your swimsuit dampen, and not from the ocean.

Your legs flapped under the water, sloppily keeping you afloat after swimming fast for so long. "Hey," you gasped out, offended. "I... I am smaller than you."

"Yeah, you are. Come here, babe. Lemme..." He reached around you and pulled you in close to him. He was treading comfortably, his body warming you from inches away. You bridged the gap between you, wrapping your legs around him and holding yourself to him. You were impressed how he didn't waiver, staying strong above water even with your weight.

"I swim a lot," he explained. "Back home. When I go to the gym, I swim laps and tread water. Good for your core."

Of course, he did. Harry Perfect Styles.

You kissed his clavicle. "Harry," you spoke, still a little out of breath.

"Baby," he replied.

You fought back a moan, your lips suctioning his browned skin.

"Your tits look fucking amazing." His hands cupped them. "You want this?" 

You couldn't help it.

"Harry, take me. Take me right here." You latched your lips to his neck and began suctioning. You tightened your legs around his waist and felt him hardening against your stomach. "Let's... Let's do it. Can feel you, Harry, feel your big--"

"Sh," he hushed you, rubbing your back. "Hush. Not safe."

Not that he didn't want to.

"The sand, then," you said. "Sex on the beach, come on. Oh, Harry, fuck me. Fuck me right now. Need you--"

"In the hotel," he said then. "On the bed. Make it... Make it proper, yeah?"

You met his eyes then, your smile slowly growing. "Take me back."  
-  
He gripped your hand, tugging you back to the hotel, both of your discarded clothes and the beach bag in his other hand. "Harry, too fast," you complained, and he slowed his pace a bit.

You reddened when you entered the hotel so scantily clad. He remained unbothered, stalking over to the elevator. Thankfully, it opened automatically and you both went inside without any intruders.

"Feel naughty, coming in here nearly naked for me?" he asked you, pressing your floor. "Cause honestly, Y/N, the fact that everyone in the lobby knows what I'm about to fuck has me going insane."

You hooded your eyes. "Always feel naughty when I'm with you." That was undoubtedly true.

He groaned, and the elevator opened to your floor. He didn't budge. "Go in front of me. I wanna watch your ass."

You let go of his hand and followed his instructions. You were literally vibrating with excitement. He was going to give it to you good, you could tell. Right now, you couldn't imagine this being a bad idea.

He came up behind you and pressed himself into your bum as he put the key to the door, making you gasp. You pushed the door open and sat on the bed.

He approached you, his eyes dark. "Spread your thighs."

You obeyed, sighing breathily. "Harry--"

He stood between your legs and undid your bra top, slowly moving the straps over your shoulders so the flimsy thing fell between you. "Look at you," he said softly. "Fuck, you need to see yourself, babe. So... So needy for me. Your mouth open, your tits out... Baby, you're beautiful," he told you. He touched your face tenderly. "Never wanna hear you talk bad about yourself again, okay? So sexy, so delicate, so... such a babe. Look at yourself," he said, stepping aside, and you were looking into the mirror across the bed.

You bet you would've noticed the pornographic possibilities this setup provided had you not been so livid at him when you arrived.

You pushed the thought out of your mind and took yourself in, flushed and spread out on the bed. You moaned as he took his thumb and traced the outside of the "O" shape of your mouth over and over.

"That's a girl. Big moans for me. Lemme hear you."

You cried again as you bucked your hips in the air to nothing, watching yourself writhe with so little contact.

"Got half a mind to have you take me in your tiny mouth again. But no. No, you need me, don't you?" he asked.

"Yes, Harry--"

"But listen. Listen. I don't want you to ever listen to anyone who tells you you aren't beautiful. Because they're full of shit, do you hear me? Look at yourself. You're fucking fit, babe. See yourself, baby? Tell me. Tell me how you look."

You panted in confusion and desperation.

"Tell me how you look and I'll touch you."

You really focused on yourself then. Your nipples were pearled, making your breasts full and perky. Your mouth and eyes were wide open, your cheeks rosy red from the sun and now lust.

"Look... Look pretty," you spoke shyly.

He beamed. "Yeah. Yeah, baby-love. Real pretty." He walked around to face you again and kissed you right on the lips. He squeezed your breasts, his thumbs circling your nipples with the right amount of pressure.

You whimpered. "Need... Need you," you cried out. Your hips rocked again. "Need your cock."

He chuckled darkly. "Yeah, hon. That's right." He pulled your bikini bottoms down and clawed a finger inside you. "Mm, pretty wet. Not ready yet, though. That's all right. We'll get you there." He pumped you mercilessly and you thrashed your head to the left, and his lips met your neck. 

He worked at you slowly, his second hand rubbing your tits sloppily.

You moaned.

"You're a slut, yeah?" he remarked.

"Mhm."

"Say it."

"Slut for you," you blurted.

"Oh, yeah. That's my girl. So good for me," he paused, adding another finger as a reward, "little Y/N."

You cried out. 

"Mm? Like that? Like that, baby? You're my little girl. Always have been. Always have been since the... since the first time I saw you." His fingers slowed at that, working deeper, and he was quiet, the only sounds in the room being your mangled whimpers and the skin of his fingers against your flesh. His thumb grazed your clit and you cried.

"Not gonna... Not gonna be able to take another, hm? So tight, honey," he mumbled. 

You couldn't answer, crying underneath him.

"Gonna be able to take me, you think?" He slowed his movements.

You nodded, exhausted but ready.

"Don't wanna... Don't wanna hurt ya," he said, genuine concern in his voice. His perverted monologue screeched to a stop and he pulled his fingers out of you.

You shook your head, placing a hand on his forearm. "Gonna hurt good. Wanna hurt for you, wanna feel you."

He leaned down and kissed your forehead, incredibly gentle. "Go up to the top of the bed and lay down."

"Harry--"

"No. Go." 

You followed his directions then, moving up and laying down. You watched him first lick his fingers clean and then undress completely and come to meet you.

He pumped himself, looking at you in the eye as he readied his cock.

"I can--" you began, your hand reaching for him.

"No. You don't... You don't do anything right now. I'll take care of you," he said. "Fuck. A condom."

"I take birth control," you told him.

"Not last night, you didn't," he said, and you had no idea how he could remember these things at this moment. You were out of mind.  
He yanked open the nightstand drawer and took out a box. "Got 'em for this trip. Good thinking, yeah?" he mused, sliding one over himself.

You whined. "Wanna feel you, though. Feel you in me."

"Next time," he whispered. "Hush. Real quiet now," he said, moving over top of you. He kissed your forehead. "You're okay, hon. You're all right." 

You didn't need comforting. You needed him.

But he was being so gentle, so caring now. "Know how big I am, right? Remember when you... When you sucked me off, little Y/N? So I'm gonna go real slow, just push real gentle, and you tell me when I can move. Okay?" he asked, kissing your cheek. "Can't even take my fingers, babe. You're gonna... I just... I want you to feel good, not hurt."

You kissed him. "I'm not worried. I trust you."

He kissed your nose. "I've thought about this... so long," he said. "Always been my little girl, my precious little thing." His fingers brushed your cheek, coating it in his spit. "You ready?" he asked you in your ear.

"Wanted you, too," you mumbled. "Wanted you for so long. Never thought... Never thought you'd have me," you managed out. "Yeah, H. I'm ready."

He put his hand in yours, interlacing your fingers and pressing your hand against the mattress as he pushed into you slowly. He was right. It hurt. You'd never been with anyone as big as him, and you hadn't had sex in almost a year.

You shut your eyes and turned your head away, knowing he'd hate to see you in pain.

"Sh," he soothed, stopping. "You tell me. Tell me when you're ready for more."

"More?" you gasped.

He nodded, gulping. "Yeah. Little more. Fuck, so tight. So tight, Y/N--"

You opened your eyes to find that he was only half inside you.

But the pain was subsiding.

You took a deep breath. "Okay. Keep going."

He sunk into you little by little until you could literally feel him in your stomach. 

"So big," you moaned out. "Harry!"

"What? Hurt?" he choked out, seeming to have a hard time holding out, but managing for you.

"No, feels good," you said, half-lying. "Go ahead. Move."

He started, slow and gentle and coddling. 

And you couldn't define these movements other than lovemaking. He was so painfully hard and desperate, yet so concerned and kind to you, awfully sweet. Your whimpers were more like nursery rhymes, gently singing out his praises. You tried to move, but you were paralyzed with sharp pain and pleasure and love.

"Harder," you moaned out when the pain subsided, rocking your hips now to feel him deeper. "I... I can take it." Your hand that wasn't holding his came up to sink into his back.

"You sure?"

"Yes, Harry. Please."

He picked up the pace then, no less meticulous than he was before. His thrusts were neat, you observed, like his bedroom. He groaned. "Not gonna... Last long." He kissed your right cheek, thrust, your nose, thrust, your left cheek, and brought his thumb to your clit, circling it.

He adjusted his angle and you crooned. "Ooh, Harry! Harry, right--"

"Right there, y-yeah," he agreed, and three big, increasingly sloppy thrusts later, and you both climaxed.

Holy shit. You came together your first time.

Overcome by his orgasm, Harry lost control, rapidly pounding into you then. It hurt, but it hurt so good. Your aching hips met his every time, cursing and yelping until you both were spent, him putting his weight on you thoughtlessly for a moment.

"Harry," you spoke up eventually. "Harry, ow," you said.

He adjusted to look at you. "Hm?" 

"Laying on me."

"Ah, fuck, you're right. Let's..." He pulled out of you and you howled in pain. He squeezed your hand. "Hush. Hush, baby. Yeah, I know. I know, honey. Thought it might hurt. Fuck, I'm stupid. Sh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, little Y/N," he mumbled, kissing the sweat of your hairline. 

"'s okay," you replied, your voice hoarse from all the crying out.

His hands rubbed at your sides. "Feel okay? What can I do for ya, babe, hm? What are ya thinking of, little Y/N? My good little girl."

"Kiss," you whispered, and he leaned down and gave you one. When he pulled away, you whined. "Needy, needy baby doll. Hm? Is this because I spoil you? Is this because you always get what you want with me? Isn't that right, baby?" He kissed you again. "You know I'd do anything for you, princess. All you have to do is ask."

"Hold me, then," you said softly.

His arms enfolded you then, pulling you onto his chest. "That's right, ain't it, love? You like for me to be close to you. You're such... You want my loving, hm? Needy for me, huh, baby? Baby, baby, baby! Needy little girl, needy for Daddy. But that's all right. Daddy's right here, yeah? Daddy's got you."

Your breath caught in your throat, and you think he stopped there on purpose because he was shocked, too.

"Yeah," you replied sleepily, not knowing what else to say. You were so embarrassed after last night. Fuck, you were so embarrassed right now. He was literally messaging girls as you slept on his arm during your flight here. And you caved that easily. You kissed his chest and shut your eyes.

But you also felt so loved, so needed, so cared for, so sexy with that word. He wanted to baby you, be your Daddy. It felt fantastic.

His fingers tangled in your hair. "Mhm, love. Right here. Sleep now."  
-  
You woke up on his chest.

The TV was playing softly in the background. 

His fingers trailed your naked back softly, barely. Up and down. Up and down.

Your head moved barely and he noticed, kissing it. "Up?"

You nodded, your hand pushing you up off his chest to meet his eyes. Your legs untangled themselves, and you winced. That hurt.

He saw you cringe. "Ibuprofen?"

You shook your head. "Maybe later."

He kissed your cheek and you didn't react.

"All good?" he asked you.

You rested your head back down on his shoulder, not replying. You didn't have anything to say. You didn't know what to think.

His hand resumed its movement on your back.

He gulped before speaking again. "I asked you if you were good."

"I'm... I'm fine."

"Not good," he replied.

You sighed. "Tired."

He cleared his throat. "We don't... I mean..." he trailed. 

"What?"

"We don't have to do it again," he said.

Why were you disappointed? You could feel yourself getting into trouble with him.

Why did you like it? 

"I know," you said back.

He put his face in his hands and sighed.

You rolled off him and held your arms to yourself at the loss of contact. Fuck, he was right. Needy.

"Do you hate me?" he asked you.

"Don't be so dramatic," you said back, your eyes piercing him.

"No. Because you said that," he said.

"When?"

"The car. After I... The sculpture," he said, and his hands started to bounce anxiously where they were resting on his knees.

You frowned. "Didn't... Didn't mean it," you told him, sitting up more properly. You both were naked under the covers. "I couldn't hate you."

You were so angry at him for how his words hurt you. You didn't even consider how yours might have hurt him back.

But that wasn't all.

"So what am I, then? To you," he spoke.

You hugged your knees to your chest. "Someone... Someone I thought really cared about me. Someone I thought really cared about my sister. Someone I care a lot about," you answered, "but... Not too sure if you're good for me."

He nodded. "Fair."

You shut your eyes. "I don't know if... Just... The thought of you messaging other people while I was sleeping on your arm is particularly disturbing," you said frankly. "You don't see an issue with that?" you asked.

"No, I do," he agreed.

"And... And you yell at me, Harry. I don't know... I don't know what it is that provokes you, but... I get scared when you snap at me. You can't take back what you said about my sculpture, and it wasn't just about that. You... You put a price on me, and look at me. I just gave you exactly what you wanted," you said, tears coming to your eyes. "What you bought me for."

He shook his head rapidly. "No. No, never--"

"What am I supposed to think?" you cried.

He exhaled through his nose. "Tell me exactly what I can do, precisely what I can do to make it clear that that's not what I'm doing."

You laughed, looking down at the bed. "You're not gonna like it."

"No, tell me." His stare was unyielding.

You glanced up at him. "Gonna need to like... Text me. Ask me about my day and shit. Send me things that make you think of me. Call me just to say you care. Take me out to dinner on a Thursday just because. That kind of thing," you said. "And spend a lot more time with me. Plan dates. Not a lot of money, just dates. No trips abroad or shopping money. Time spent with me where we're not, you know, the whole time," you said, raising your eyebrows.

He nodded. "Okay. Simple enough."

You pursed your lips. "And as for... As for your other relationships--"

"They're not like you--"

"Excuse me. As for other... girls, just... I suppose I don't mind if you have them for now. We haven't been together long, and you're right, we aren't exclusive. Just... I know I went snooping, and that's how I found out, but... Harry, I can't. I can't with... Just... I don't want to know about them, and I want them to be the furthest thing from your mind when I'm with you. And I can't imagine I'm going to be able to put up with it for much longer, Harry. I can't... I can't deal with cheating. There's going to be a time when I say enough and I won't be joking. Can you manage that?" you asked him.

So there. You laid out the terms of the arrangement. Now all he had to do was follow.

He leaned down and kissed your forehead. "Definitely."

"We're gonna see," you corrected him.

He grabbed your hand. "Definitely."  
-  
You mindlessly watched another rerun with him before he sighed. "We should eat soon."

"Mm."

He smiled at you boyishly. "Hungry, pet?" His fingers grazed your jaw.

"Not for that," you mumbled, turning away from him.

"No," he frowned. "Baby..."

You sighed. Your anxieties were getting the best of you again.

But now wasn't the time. There was nothing more he could say to make you feel better.

"Where can we eat?" you asked, ditching your attitude and looking back over at him.

He blinked, taking a second to adjust to your mood swing. "Um... Could go get pitas at a place not too far. We could walk."

You wrinkled your nose, knowing how unreliable your legs were at the moment. "Could we take the car, though?"

He kissed you. "Yeah. Want to take ibuprofen? Could work."

You shook your head. "I don't like to take pills unless I really need them." You stood up for the first time since sex and you realized you really needed them. "Maybe I should." You scurried over to the grocery bag and pretended you didn't notice him staring.

"Your ass should be in a museum. Not kidding," he catcalled from the bed.

You shook your head, throwing on your lounge set from earlier in the day. He groaned as though in pain. "So pretty, though, when you're naked."

"Not when I'm clothed?" you asked, popping the pain pills.

"And when you're clothed," he corrected. 

You sauntered over to him. "You know... I haven't really gotten a good look at you," you said. "Unfair, isn't it?"

He reddened. Harry Styles reddened under the weight of your stare. 

And you made a fair point. The comforter was positioned strategically over him, barely revealing anything at all. Even his stomach was covered.

"Go on. Show me, pretty boy," you said.

He threw the comforter aside and you took him in, blinking slowly. Your lips parted, fully seeing him stretched out for you for the first time. 

He was beautiful. 

No, more than that. He was your Daddy.

You stalked over and crawled between his legs on the bed. You were on your knees in front of him, your faces nearly touching. "Has anyone ever told you you're gorgeous?" you asked in his ear.

He grinned, his hand coming up to rub your arm. "You're kind."

He definitely had been told.

You breathed shakily, moving to kiss his jaw, your hand rubbing his thigh. He groaned.

You gulped, nervous. "Harry," you whispered.

"Hm, babe?" His eyes were shut.

You put your nose on his cheek and shut your eyes too, almost afraid when you rasped, "Daddy."

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you uncomfortably closer. "Little girl... That's so good. That's so good for me, baby. I'm so proud of you. I'd take you right now if I didn't know how sore you are, pet." He opened his eyes and kissed you. "Very good, little Y/N. That's right. Daddy's here for you. Can you say it again, babe? I wanna watch you say it is all," he told you, his eyes open now.

His eyes on you made you a little more embarrassed, your cheeks reddening and a shy smile coming to your lips as you said it this time. 

"Daddy," you tried it. 

He beamed. "Little girl," he returned back to you.

You pressed your thighs together, feeling your wetness. "Maybe I am hungry for you, Daddy," you mumbled, glancing down at him, a little hard beneath you. "Could take you in my mouth."

He shook his head, kissing you. "We're gonna try something new."

You frowned. That scared you. You weren't sure if you were ready to be thrown around like a sex doll. That was your major fear of using this new word.

He frowned back at you. "Just don't wanna make you do too much today, baby. That's all. I know you're sore, you're tired. You took me like the good little slut you are earlier, we can't have you sucking me off now. I'm not that mean," he said. His voice got lower. "We can see how mean you like me to be some other time."

You pouted, curious and scandalized and excited at what that could mean. You didn't have to wonder long.

"I could spank you, choke you, blindfold you," he said softly, watching for your reaction. 

You reddened, scared at how not scared you were of those things.

"But that's not for today or any time soon. Gotta work up to it, right? Get you to trust me. I mean, you do, right? But... Enough to hurt you..." he said quietly.

"Maybe," you whispered.

He grinned. "You think it could be something you like? I mean... If Daddy hurt ya a bit?"

You nodded. "I think I'd like it rough. With you, Daddy."

He beamed and kissed your cheek. "Okay. Okay, not today. But I have another idea... Has an innocent little thing like you ever heard of sucking on someone's fingers?" he asked you.

You nodded. "Mm, Daddy--"

He cut you off with a kiss and brought his hand to your mouth. "Try it," he mumbled, shoving a finger in your mouth.

You moaned, suckling your lips and bobbing back and forth. 

He smiled. "Good job. Such a good girl for me. That's right. That's so good, little slut."

You made your eyes wide with happiness in response to his praise and had an idea. You moved your hand, feeling around until you gripped his member and began pumping.

He smiled a Cheshire grin, sucking in a deep breath. "You're such a... Such a good girl. Do you wanna please me, little Y/N? Is that what all this is for, why you're so... Such a slut? For Daddy?" he asked you.

You nodded, and he pulled one pruned finger out of your mouth and slid his middle finger in next.

"For you, Daddy," you gurgled. 

He began breathing heavier as you continued to stroke him, but he was definitely paying mind to your whimpers and squirms as you grew wetter, watching him writhe for you. "Stop," he said, pulling his finger out of your mouth. Your hand left his cock, leaving it hard against his stomach. It was very hard for you to not look at it, but you managed.

He leaned forward and moved to take off your bottoms.

You cringed, worried to irritate yourself further. The ibuprofen was hardly working.

"Sh, I know, baby. I know. Just... Wanna try something for me? Something I think might give you some relief here? I just... Feel bad being so selfish right now, love. You deserve some help, too, even if you're hurt," he said. "Wanna try?"

You nodded.

He pulled your bottoms down and glanced at his thigh, tattoed with a tiger. "Wanna sit on me? And rub and see if that feels good to you?" he asked you. He brought his hand to your face. "That way, you know, you can control it and you won't be hurt."

You bit your lip, smirking. "I like your dirty mind."

"Sh," he said, lifting your top over your head and laying it on the bed. "Much better, no?" he asked, ogling you.

You giggled.

He patted his lap. "Come, sit. Sit for Daddy."

"Yes, Daddy," you said, beginning to move when he gripped your chin with his hand, forcing you to look at him.

"What?" he asked you.

You stared back at him, panicked.

"Say it again," he said.

You blinked slowly, realizing. "Yes, Daddy, I will," you mewled.

He kissed you. "So good. So good, baby, 's a shame you're so sore, huh? Because you've been so good for me. Remind me of that next time, yeah?" he asked.

You nodded, swinging your leg to rest your wetness on his thigh. You shut your eyes, surprised at how good it felt. "Yes, Daddy."

He pushed his fingers through your hair. "All right, little thing. Ready?"

"Ready," you whispered.

He put a finger back in your mouth and you resumed your suckling, now rubbing yourself on him. He hissed. "You're fucking slick. Fuck."

You whined in response.

It took you a while to remember that you had been giving him a handjob before, and you reached your hand over to do it again. "No," he said, watching you intensely. "No, you're gonna make yourself cum on my thigh, you needy baby."

You let out a strangled groan. He took his finger from your mouth and you let out a proper cry, screwing your eyes shut and moving faster, harder. 

"That's it. That's right, babe."

He kissed your eyebrow, his head moving with yours as you grinded up and down for a moment. "Open your eyes and look at me," he mumbled.

You did and saw how his glare was fixated on you, condescending you as you tried to milk your pleasure on his muscular but obviously flat thigh.

Eventually, his hands came to your breasts, helping you get there. He began to use his words more, too, stimulating you that way. "Mhm, that's right, little girl. Use me. Use your Daddy. I'm right here for you, babe, you whore. Daddy's whore, yeah?"

"Uh huh," you replied, your vision beginning to blur. Oh my God, you were gonna do it. You were going to get off by rubbing yourself on his leg.

"Sh," he calmed you, moving one hand to pump himself then. "Gonna be right with you, baby. Keep it up. You're so good for me, angel, so fucking tight and good, you can do it. You can get yourself there, I know you can," he chatted, his breaths getting ragged along with yours. He was watching every inch of your face as you degraded yourself, sweating and panting and trying to get there.

But you were well on your way. "Daddy, I--"

"I know, hon. I know it's hard. But you're doing so good for me. You're right there, little--"

You cried out, coming undone.

"Yes, baby!" he shouted and climaxed seconds later.

You were gasping for air as you came back down, looking up at Harry for approval. He was wearing it as a huge grin on his face.

"Oh, honey," he spoke, leaning in and kissing you breathlessly. His hands ran over your back. "So good. You're fucking amazing, yeah? My little champion. Oh, baby, you couldn't have done better. I'm so fucking proud of you, my little girl. My little Y/N," he blabbed, showering your face in kisses. 

You regained some of your composure and noticed that your hands were already on his chest, probably having been rubbing his muscles. So you did that some more, moving impossibly closer to him by scooching up his thigh. You rested your head on his shoulder. "I was good, Daddy?"

"You were excellent, little Y/N. Better than good," he said, kissing your hair. "So good I almost can't believe it. Perfect, actually."

You smiled. He was proud of you.

"We should really eat now, though, yeah? You're probably starving, you little thing," he said. "Cuddle a bit more, change, then get us some dinner? I'll drive you, baby. I know you hurt, love."

You let out a big breath. "Okay. What time is it?" you asked.

He glanced over at the clock. "3pm. And then maybe we can spend some more time at the beach if you want."

You left his chest to look at him then. "And get ice cream?" you asked, smiling. The dessert had never been sexy before him.

He nodded. "Whatever you want, baby. I mean it. Whatever your little heart desires."

You hummed, your eyes sparkling. "Well, I want ice cream."

He held your face, rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb. "Then we'll get it for you, little Y/N."

"And we need new sheets."

He laughed. "Yeah. I'll call downstairs."  
-  
Two hours later, you were sitting in the sand, finishing a sundae. You really were hungry. This was after eating a gyro for dinner.

"Good holiday?" he asked you, staring out at the water.

"Yeah," you said.

"I didn't ruin it by being a piece of shit?" he asked.

You kissed him. "Redeemed yourself at the end there."

He ran a hand through your hair, not having gotten any ice cream for himself. "I'm gonna try for you," he said earnestly.

You stared at him, wondering how things would be different once you got back to London. 

"You're going to grow tired of me, I swear. We'll... We'll go out to dinner, see movies, take walks, and shag like bunnies," he listed.

You laughed. "All that?"

"All that and more, yeah." He kissed your hairline. 

You leaned over and rested on him shamelessly, watching the sunset.  
-  
When you got onto the plane, you felt nervous and tired. You weren't nervous to fly necessarily, but you were nervous to go back home, and you were nervous about what Harry did on your last flight and if he'd do it again.

You took your seat and watched as Harry loaded your bags in the overhead compartment, his strong arms doing the job easily. He took his seat next to you and raised his eyebrows. "Ready?"

You nodded. "Yeah."

The flight attendant did her spiel and you were looking out your window onto the tarmac. 

His thumb stroked your hand and you turned to look at him. "Do you have to be in early tomorrow?" you asked.

He nodded. "I'll manage."

"You should sleep on the flight, though," you said, your eyes darting uncomfortably.

He squeezed your hand. "It'll be fine."

You shook your head, lowering the armrest. "Rest on me."

He almost laughed. "What?"

"You let me rest on you the flight here," you said softly.

He paused. "It'd make you feel better?" he asked.

You nodded.

He leaned down then, his head on your shoulder. Your hand came up to massage his hair. The plane took off and he shut his eyes once the turbulence was over.

Four hours where he was yours, sleeping. You never thought you'd be thankful for that.  
-  
You drove back to your flat in silence. You both were tired and had responsibilities the next day.

Harry held your hand on the center console. He'd been super touchy-feely since you landed--his hand on your lower back as you left the airport and walking to his car.

"Thank you for... For letting me sleep on you," he said.

"You don't have to thank me. I liked it, too," you replied.

He nodded. "Yeah. Comfy."

You smiled. 

"I love you," he spoke. "Really. I feel like... Maybe I haven't said it in a bit."

"I love you, too," you said softly. "And... That's okay. We were busy." You kissed his arm.

He grinned. "Yeah. Busy showing it instead of saying it."

You nodded, your nose grazing him. 

"You know I... I don't want to ever make you feel like I'm only with you for physical reasons or that I'm only happy with you and love you because we have sex. I like you. I really like you, Y/N, and I have for a long time. You're... You're a great girl, okay? I care for you. I always will," he said, cruising down the street. "I wouldn't just say that. I would never... I would never lie about that. You mean a great deal to me, and I don't intend on hurting you ever again."

You let out a deep breath. "Thank you, Harry."

"Don't thank me for that. It's natural that I love you," he said sincerely.

You were quiet a second before responding. "I understand that you can't change the past, and I respect you and believe you when you say you're going to try for me. I only can't help that... That I did feel hurt, that I am still a little hurt."

"Of course you are. I was a dick," he said, biting his lip. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. You deserve a lot better. I shouldn't have... You're sleeping there so innocent, and I..." He shook his head. "I need to be better for you. I will."

You sighed, not wanting to contradict him.

He squeezed your hand. "I promise." 

He pulled into a parking spot near your flat. "I'll get your suitcase and walk you up."

He did just that, you both slowly making your way up the stairs to your door in the dark. You turned around to face him and he set your suitcase down, cupped your face, and kissed you. "I love you so much. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Harry. I love you back."

He pulled away and held your hands. "I just... I wanna thank you for coming with me and keeping me company and dealing with all of my shit. You shouldn't have had to. I know it took a lot for you to trust me and come in the first place, and--"

"Stop apologizing. I know. You need to get home and sleep," you interrupted.

He nodded, stroking your face. "You too. 'm gonna call you tomorrow, yeah?"

You smiled. "Yeah."

He kissed your forehead. "Angel."

You wrapped your arms around his waist and held yourself there. He rubbed your back for a second. 

"Okay. You gotta get to bed," you said, pulling away from him and opening your front door. "Night. Love you."

"Goodnight. I love you, too."  
-  
The next morning, you woke up around eight. You had a text from Harry. It was a series of the pictures he'd taken of you with his phone over the trip, including the selfie you took on the beach. You smiled and reacted with a heart to that one. It was a good picture, your smiles giddy and genuine, with him holding you close.

"You're so beautiful and I love you so much. Thank you again for coming with me. I'll call when I'm done with work."

"Of course Harry. Love you back, and thank you for taking me on holiday. I'd never been to Greece before and it was amazing. Talk soon" you replied.

You left your bedroom to find Carla and Adrienne eating breakfast on the couch. Oh right.

"I'm sorry," you said, sighing. "I never texted you back."

"We were a little worried. I stayed up to hear you come home last night," Adrienne said honestly. "Was everything okay?" 

"Thank you for that. I apologize, I just... We were busy." You sighed. "It turned out to be okay."

Carla couldn't take it anymore. "What happened?"

You shook your head, silent a moment. "It came out that... That he's definitely with other people. And I was upset at first, really upset. And apparently, he cheated on Jane, and--"

Carla gasped. "Oh my God--"

Adrienne shook her head. "I'm so sorry, Y/N."

"But we're okay now," you said meekly.

They both blinked.

"How?" Carla asked.

"He just... He was so sweet the rest of the trip. He took care of me, and he really just loved up on me and made me feel like... Like he always does," you gushed.

"You had sex with him," Carla said.

You reddened. "It was amazing."

Neither of them spoke a moment and you knew how it sounded; you gave in and he was taking advantage of you. So you spoke up some more.

"We talked about it a lot, and he apologized, and he said he's going to call and take me on dates and things like that. And then, he'll ask me to be his girlfriend at some point if it goes well," you said, embellishing a little there. That was generally what you'd decided. You told him that at some point he wouldn't be able to have other people anymore, and he agreed with you.

Adrienne spoke first to your surprise. "You can do whatever you want, Y/N. I just... We don't want to see you upset. We see how you put so much faith in him, how you trust him and love him, and really want it to work out. Who's to say he isn't just sweet-talking you like he always does?" she asked. "You always say he makes you feel so special. Is that worth him sleeping with half the city behind your back?"

You blinked. "Well, we've only been seeing each other for two weeks. It wouldn't be normal for us to be exclusive, I don't think," you said.

"So you're going to go out and get laid by some other man," Carla said sarcastically, quirking her brow at you.

"No," you mumbled. "I... I can be patient. And I can show him that I'm all he needs."

Carla scoffed. "Good luck with that." She stood up and went to discard her plate in the kitchen.

You sat down then. "I know it sounds bad, I do. I just... I know him. And I feel... I feel like if he wants me, I want him, you know? And trust me, I was really upset when I first found out. I wouldn't let him touch me. But he just... He loves me. He loves me, and I can't help I love him back. What if I could help him?" you asked.

Adrienne shrugged. "I don't know, Y/N. He's been playing the field when he was supposed to be in a committed relationship with Jane. You aren't a therapist. How are you supposed to fix that?" she asked.

"By loving him and showing him that an honest relationship can work when you really care about the other person," you answered.

Adrienne blinked slowly. "Y/N, are you telling me the sex is actually that good, that you're planning to teach him how to be faithful to you like some sort of puppy trainer?"

"It is, yeah," you allowed, "but it's not just that. He loves me, and I... I know it's stupid, and I know I've made fun of how many other girls for the same dumb thing, but I can't give up on that. I can't give up on him."  
-


	8. Honeymoon Avenue

Later that day, as promised, your phone rang with a call from Harry.

"Hi, baby. How are you? How's your day?" 

You could get used to this.

"I'm good. I'm actually really good. I feel refreshed with the weekend. I thought I might be tired, but I feel relaxed," you said. "Thank you for taking me."

"Of course. I'm glad. I like going there for that reason, it's very relaxing," he said.

"Yeah, I like it. How was your day?" you returned.

"Mm, okay," he replied. "I've got this presentation on Friday. Whatever."

"Oh, what are you presenting?" you asked.

"New business model. It's kinda common sense," he said. "I've been trying to get them to move towards something relatively modern forever."

"I'm sure you'll do great," you told him. "If you need any help, or maybe you just want to practice a few times, I could sit and listen."

"No, no. I wouldn't bore you," he told you. "What are you doing tomorrow? Any plans?"

"Mm, I've got exercise class," you said. "And I really should go. I missed last week for the gallery," you reminded him and yourself.

"Exercise class?" he asked you.

"Oh yeah. It's not... I'm not very good at it, but I started going to this class just so at least I'm exercising once a week for sure. That sounds pathetic," you said, knowing that Harry was very athletic.

"What do you do in class?" he asked, brushing off your insecure comment.

"We work in partners and do different stations. It's different every time, that's why I like it," you explained.

"Partners? I could come with you," he said.

You cringed. Why would you mention that? You didn't necessarily want Harry to join you. You weren't very good at class, and you liked going by yourself with no judgment from anyone you knew.

"Mm, I don't know," you said. "Maybe we should--"

"It'd be fun," he interrupted you. "I'm always looking for something new to try in the gym. Could I come with you?" he asked.

You sighed.

"I don't have to," he said.

"Hm..." You felt a little stupid, but you really didn't know what to say. You didn't want to offend Harry, but you were anxious about him joining you.

"You can just text me your place and I'll go another day," he said. "No big deal."

"It's not that I don't want you there, Harry, I just... I'm not very good at that kind of thing," you said.

"It's not a matter of being good at it, Y/N, you're just trying to sweat while you're there, get your exercise in," he told you. "I understand, but I wouldn't judge you."

"You promise?" you asked softly.

"Yes, I promise. And we can get ice cream afterward, how's that? I know you like your ice cream."

You took a deep breath. "Okay. You can come."

"Are you sure?" he asked. "I don't want to intrude, just... I don't know, I thought it'd be fun. And it'd be a good way to spend time together; something different is all."

"Yeah," you agreed then. He was right. You needed to get over your fear. This was a good idea for a date. "Something different."  
-  
You were peeing before leaving for class when you got your fucking period.

Shit. 

You groaned. You knew it was coming, but you were never happy to get your period. Right before class, and just when things were getting really hot with Harry... You begrudgingly put in a tampon and muttered, cursing the world.

Harry texted you. "I could swing by and pick u up for class. On my way over. Are you ready?"

Normally, you walked to class, as it was less than a mile away from where you lived. But if Harry was offering, and now with your period, a ride to class would be nice.

"Sure! Thank you so much"  
-  
"Just remember how smart and pretty I am while we're in there," you said as he pulled into the parking space. "Oh, and my art." You were especially nervous now with your period. You always felt awkward and sluggish in class when you had it.

"I always do," he said. "You're worried about this, aren't you? Why would I judge you for how you do in an exercise class? Would you judge me for how I do in an art class?" he asked.

"No," you replied, looking down at the floor. "You're right, Harry. I'm sorry."

He grabbed your chin and tilted it for you to look up at him. "I love you." He pecked your lips. "You look adorable. Let's go."

You nodded and he opened his car door and you followed, behind him as you entered the gym. 

"Hi, it's Y/N Y/L/N," you greeted the usual employee behind the desk. You opened your purse. "I think I have to renew," you said.

She nodded, typing into the computer. "Hi, Y/N. Yes, you're due."

"Just put it on mine," Harry said, getting out his wallet.

You turned to him, unhappy. "No--"

"Yes. This is a date," he said.

"Okay," you said. "Okay, then you pay for this class, not my entire membership."

He shook his head, smiling. "You're stubborn."

The desk attendant silently stared between you, mildly uncomfortable.

"Harry Styles," Harry said, putting his credit card on the desk. "I'd like two spaces for tonight's class. One for me, one for her."

You finished paying and exited the lobby, stepping into the actual gym.

There were some regulars already populating the area, and the usual gym rat already doing pull-ups in one corner. You didn't really know what to make of him. When you first started coming here, you had a bit of a crush because he was quite attractive. But then, the instructor paired you together for class because he didn't need any help while you did, and you couldn't help but feel that he was condescending towards you though he barely spoke to you at all. Maybe his attitude was part of the reason you were scared for Harry to accompany you to class.

"Who's that?" Harry asked, watching you absentmindedly watch the man do his pull-ups. You weren't very keen on making conversation with Harry after his behavior in the lobby.

You shrugged. "The star student, I guess. We usually partner together."

"Not today, though, right?" Harry asked, and you looked over at him, smiling. Was he jealous?

"No, not today." You nudged him with your elbow.

The instructor entered class and you stretched, all introducing yourselves by your names.

"'m Harry," Harry said. "And yeah. 's my first time. I'm with Y/N here," he glanced at you, smiling.

You reddened. 

"Ah, shaking up the partners, are you?" the instructor asked. "That's fine, we'll pair James with someone else. Welcome, Harry. Great to have you."

He nodded in return. 

Class began, and Harry was brilliant. He was nailing each station with absolutely no trouble at all. He was giving James a run for his money. When it was your turn on the obstacles, he watched politely, catching his breath.

You got to the climbing wall which you hated. You were just short enough that it made it nearly impossible to do, and your lack of upper body strength surely didn't help.

"Do it," you heard him say underneath you. He hadn't spoken this whole time.

"What?" you asked.

"Go. What are you, scared?"

You grunted, offended. "Not scared. I'm... I can't."

"Yes, you can."

You reached again and you could sense him rolling his eyes.

You tried a little longer before he spoke up again.

"Y/N. Y/N, would I let you fall?"

"What?" you asked.

"You're too scared to let go and reach because you don't think you can hold yourself. Do it. I'm standing right here. Would I let you fall?" he asked you again.

"No," you replied.

"Go on then."

The buzzer rang, which meant it was Harry's turn on the obstacle. "Try it," he instructed you, letting you know that he wasn't going to let you cop-out. "Really try. Don't back out. Reach."

He could be so annoying. 

You grunted in irritation, about to show him how it was impossible for you to make it any higher. You pushed with your legs and reached with your arms, and before you knew it, you were higher up on the wall than you ever had been.

You tried to be angry, but you couldn't help it. He just helped you do something you thought you never thought you could accomplish.

"There," he told you. "That's much better. Good job. You need to do it like that each time."

You lowered yourself from the wall and Harry placed a hand on top of your sweaty head. "Very good," he told you. "Much better."

You smiled shyly. "Your turn." You stood back and watched as Harry climbed the entire wall with seemingly little effort. To be fair, he was nearly a foot taller than you, but he also was much stronger, making you feel a little embarrassed.

"Very good job, Harry," your instructor said, coming over. "You should try for the record at the end of class." 

Harry climbed back down. "Record?" he asked.

"The record for the fastest climb up the wall. You might beat it," he said. 

Harry shrugged. "Maybe some other time." 

You rotated a few more stations before you made it to the dreaded pull-up bar at the end of class, your true least favorite. You couldn't do one measly pull-up, and it made you feel awful each week.

"Can you go first?" you asked Harry quietly.

He frowned. "Why?"

"I'm... I'm a little tired," you said. "I need a minute." You wanted to delay your embarrassment as much as possible.

He nodded. "Okay." He gripped the bar. "You can go get water or something if you need to." He started then, doing rep after rep rapidly. 

You realized after a bit that he must've been trying to show up James. So much for this being about spending time together. He made it a competition with someone else. And did he have to look so sexy while he did it, grunting and thrusting aggressively? You rolled your eyes, turning away, not wanting him to catch you blushing when you felt irritated towards him.

"Harry!" your instructor exclaimed, and you were even getting a little annoyed with her because she hadn't helped you all class. "Excellent!"

At her praises, you saw James glaring at Harry from across the room, and you had to admit that it was a little funny.

The buzzer indicated that it was your turn and Harry lowered himself down, making you turn bright red. Now the whole class was watching your station from Harry's show.

"Go ahead," Harry gasped out, nodding over at the bar.

"I can't," you whispered.

"Go on, Y/N. Do the scapular pull-ups like I showed you," the trainer said. 

You huffed, annoyed. You'd been doing these modified pull-ups for months and you could barely even do them. This was so embarrassing. You turned to the bar and began your pathetic version of what Harry had just mastered, and out of the corner of your eye, you caught it.

James watched you struggling and turned and laughed.

"Let me watch you try," Harry spoke up. He must have caught his breath by now.

"What?" you gasped, lowering yourself.

"Let me watch you try to do one. A real one," he said.

You rolled your eyes. "That's the thing, Harry. I can't. I really can't," you said. "I told you I'm not good at this. I'm weak."

He shook his head. "Try. I want to see you try."

"He's going to laugh at me again," you said softly.

"If he does, I'll punch him in the teeth," he said lowly. "I saw him. Don't think about him, he's a dick. I want you to try for me, babe."

You sighed. "I can't."

"You will. Go," he commanded of you, and you didn't have the resolve to pretend it didn't turn you on. He knew it, too, staring you down all assertively, not taking no for an answer. He was testing you.

You grabbed the bar and stretched your neck. "Don't laugh."

"I wouldn't. Just try, really try. For me, sweetheart."

You rolled your eyes. As if you weren't really trying before.

You gripped the bar and pulled yourself up, feeling your face turn beet red and not making much progress toward the bar until you felt hands lifting you up by your hips. You laughed in surprise. "Harry!"

You met the bar and laughed, now getting the attention of everyone again, watching you giggle like a little girl in the center of the gym. 

"See?" Harry asked. "I told you you'd do it," he said lightheartedly. He lowered you down and kissed the back of your head. Before you knew it, his hands squeezed your ass over your leggings, and you spun around in shock for him to kiss you. You grabbed his swelling biceps and returned his kiss, feeling so wanted and loved in this moment. 

He wasn't going to let that loser pick on you. You were his girl.

The final buzzer rang and you pulled apart from him. "You're bad," you said as though you weren't kissing him back.

"You like it," he said, shrugging.

"Yeah, I guess," you said quietly as your instructor began to lead a cooldown stretch.

Class concluded and you all shuffled out of the gym. You quickly grabbed your purse and led Harry outside. Harry had been glaring at James for a while now, and you didn't want anything to happen between them, not even a conversation. You knew how Harry could get, and you didn't want to see how James reacted, the immature ass he was.

You practically skipped to the car, Harry getting in after you.

"Where do you want to go next?" you asked, beaming as he buckled himself.

He chuckled. "I wish I knew something that made you happier than me feeling you up in front of rooms of people."

You kissed his cheek. "Thank you. Thank you for sticking up for me."

"Course I would. I don't know what that prick thinks he has over you. He comes to the gym to make his head look smaller on his neck I suppose. You're just trying to have a good time and sweat. I ought to have... I should have said something," he said, shaking his head. "You shouldn't have to deal with that shit."

"I always thought he was making fun of me, but I never had any proof," you said softly.

"Well, if he does it again, let me know and I'll call the gym and have a few words," Harry said. "He shouldn't... He shouldn't get to come to class and make you feel uncomfortable. That's shit." He was getting worked up all over again.

You kissed his cheek again, holding his hand. "I'm not upset over it anymore, so why should you be? Let's go get dessert."

He kissed you. "Okay." He started the car. "But this time, we're going back to my flat."  
-  
You were finishing your ice cream as Harry pulled up to his place. "Got a question for ya," he said as he put the car in park, "little Y/N."

Your core tightened. "What's that?"

"Where are we gonna sweat more, at the gym or in my bed?"

You paled. Your period.

"Been thinking about you... Your little moans, your--"

"Harry--"

"Ah-ah," he said, shaking his head disapprovingly. "Not my name anymore."

"Harry, I can't. I have my... I have my period, and I'm not comfortable being with you right now," you rushed out.

He gaped.

The more seconds you spent in silence, the angrier you turned. "What, you've never heard of a period before?" you snapped. "Am I supposed to just be your dispenser? Shall I keep my legs open at all times?"

"No," he shouted finally. "No, and I'm... I'm so sorry. I'm so... Fuck, I'm so stupid. I just thought... That kiss back at the gym--" He cut himself off. "What do you want to do?" he asked you. "We'll do whatever you want."

You scratched your knee awkwardly. "I don't know."

"Want me to take you home?" he asked and watched as you pouted. "No?"

You didn't reply. If he wanted to take you home because now you were virtually useless, fine. He'd never hear from you again.

"Do you want to take a bath?" he asked quietly. "I've got wine, too, and I'll wait for you to get out and we can watch some movies--princess movies, whatever you want, little one."

You looked back over at him and nodded slowly.

He grinned. "Yeah? And I've got some chocolate for ya, too. For the good girl you've been," he said, leaning in and kissing your nose. "You're a babe, you know that?"

You nodded more confidently then, surprising yourself. How had he transformed your self-image in a matter of weeks?

He kissed your nose again. "Good. Now come on, I have a baby to spoil."  
-  
Your feet were pruned, you noticed as your toes fiddled with the bathtub water knobs. You ought to get out of the bath.

You stood up in the tub and grabbed a towel where Harry placed one for you, wrapping it around yourself as you stepped out of the bath. You dried yourself off, flinching a bit as a few knocks sounded at the door.

You wrapped the towel back around yourself. "Come in."

The door opened to reveal Harry walking in with a set of clothes and noticeably, a pad.

"Brought you this, some clothes for you so you don't have to put back on your gym ones," he said quietly. "I hope it's okay I... I went through your purse to find a pad."

You nodded, smiling softly. "Thank you." You pecked him on the lips. 

"You liked the bath?" he asked you.

"I did, yeah. The bubbles were nice," you said. 

"I can get you some ibuprofen if you hurt. I've got it leftover from the weekend," he said.

You shook your head. "The wine is helping in that department."

He wrapped his arms around you suddenly then and pulled you close to him. "'m sorry. Real sorry, baby."

"I know. It's okay." You thought about it in the bath and realized he hadn't meant any real harm.

"No, but... Just..." His green eyes stared into yours. "I should ask before I do something like that."

You rolled your eyes. "That wouldn't be nearly as sexy."

"It's not sexy at all when you don't want it," he said gravely. "Thank you for saying something. I'm very sorry."

"I forgive you," you whispered. "I understand, really. You were excited."

He smirked a second before smooching the space between your eyebrows. "What movie are we gonna watch?"

"I think the real question is what movie we're going to pretend to watch while we make out on the bed," you whispered some more.

He kissed you again. "I love you."

"Love you back."

You started to become cold, standing there in only a towel.

"All right." He handed you the pajamas and pad and grabbed the wine glass you rested on the ledge of the tub. "All good? Or--"

"Yeah. I'll meet you in the bedroom," you said.

He nodded, giving a small smile before exiting the room.  
-  
You walked into the bedroom and found him sitting on the bed in pajamas not unlike yours. You cuddled into his side, watching his side profile as he flipped through Netflix.

"What are ya thinkin'?" he said.

You kissed his shoulder. "You pick."

He stopped on Pride and Prejudice.

Shit.

"What about this? Old-timey rom-com?" he asked. "Probably works well for background noise."

"If you pick this, we're watching it," you said sincerely.

"What?" he asked.

"I love this movie. Literally, Harry, it's one of my very favorites," you said.

He quirked his brow. "It is, pumpkin?" 

You nodded. "It's so... It's so romantic. Oh, Harry, we should watch it." You snuggled your head onto his chest and felt him sigh.

"All right. Want your chocolates I promised you?"

You gasped, looking up at him. "Yes please."

He reached over onto the nightstand and handed you a shiny box. "Didn't think I forgot, I hope. There. Ready to start?"

You nodded and he played the movie.

It wasn't ten minutes in and you were positioned on his lap eating your candies, his hands underneath your shirt, and kneading your breasts as you watched the movie. His lips lapped at your neck, coating it in his spit.

You couldn't have dreamt this situation up in a million years.

You flipped over and finally kissed him back, not being able to concentrate on the movie anyway.

"Hm, thought little Y/N wanted to watch," he mumbled.

You pulled his shirt up over his head. "Shut up."  
-  
Your head rested in his lap, tears flowing down your face as the movie ended. The credits rolled.

"Not bad," Harry said, one hand running through your hair, and the other putting a chocolate in his mouth.

You sniffled. "Really? You liked it?"

"Yeah. Lots of twists and a good ending. He's a nice bloke."

"He is. He does so much to show her he loves her," you agreed. "I like stories that... I like stories that show that if two people are meant to be together, nothing else matters."

He nodded. "Should we watch something else?" he asked after a moment.

"I'm tired," you said.

"Oh, so I don't get a pick?" he asked.

You looked up to face him. "You can pick. I might just sleep through it, is all," you said.

He grinned. "Hm... A movie I like..." he trailed, flipping through and stopping at Napoleon Dynamite. "Yeah?"

You rolled your eyes.

"What?"

"Nothing, just typical."

"And your movie wasn't?" he asked.

"All right," you said, "but my movie was fantastic. It's emotional and beautiful. This movie just makes you laugh."

"What's wrong with that?" He looked down at you. "You don't like this movie? It's hilarious."

You nodded, agreeing. "Okay, yeah. Let's watch." You managed to stay awake the whole movie, laughing along with him until you both fell asleep.  
-  
His alarm went off in the wee hours of the morning when it was still dark.

"Urgh, Harry," you whined. "Why?"

"Got my," he kissed you, "presentation to plan. And meetings and budgets and other shit to do."

He moved to get up out of bed and you tugged at his arm and smooched him again. "Stay. Kiss me a little more."

He placed his hands on either side of your face and gave you another kiss. "Sleep as long as you'd like. When's class?"

It was Wednesday. "Nine," you said. You had studio time with your advisor.

"All right, you've got at least another hour of sleep then. Where is it? Take an Uber and I'll pay for it, how's that?" he asked.

"I can take the tubes." 

He wrinkled his nose, looking down at you laid on the bed. "I don't like for you to take the tubes."

"Why not? We live in London, Harry."

"Yes, but you're... You're just so..." He looked at you a second more. "All right." He leaned down and kissed your cheek once more. "I'll call you later." He went to go take a shower and you laid in his bed, listening to the water run and his humming.

He came back into the bedroom and quietly changed, either assuming you were asleep or not wanting to make noise so you could fall asleep.

"I wanna help you with your presentation," you said quietly.

He chuckled. "Y/N," he said, "It's a business presentation. It's not meant to be fun."

"I know it's not meant to be fun. Still, it might be nice for you to practice for someone. I want to help," you reiterated. "What, you think I won't be able to understand it?"

He buttoned his shirt, turned away from you. "No, I think you'll regret spending your time listening to it."

"It consists of you speaking while wearing a suit," you said, "so I don't know how it could be boring."

He spun around, smiling at you. "When'd you get so flirty, hm?"

You shrugged, feeling the sheets move with your shoulders. "Maybe you taught me."

"Lots of things I can teach you," he mused before walking back over to you and giving you one final kiss, his tongue licking the roof of your mouth. "Little Y/N," he said when he pulled away.  
You smiled. "Can I come over and hear your presentation tonight, then?"

He sighed, shutting his eyes.

"Daddy--"

"Yes, you may," he replied at that.

"I love that word," you told him.

"Me, too."  
-  
You got a call from Harry while you were eating lunch at home with your flatmates.

"He's contacted you both days since you've been home, right?" Adrienne said. "At least he's calling."

"Don't sound so surprised," you frowned, turning away from your mates and answering your phone. "Hi!" You couldn't help but be excited by him.

He laughed a bit. "Hey. D'ya wanna come over now and hear my presentation?" he asked.

"Now?" you asked. You looked at the clock. It was one o'clock in the afternoon. "To yours?"

"No, sorry. I mean my office."

You didn't reply, a little surprised.

"It's only that I have time now, and I thought maybe we'd be able to get a drink or something after," he said. "And then you could study later tonight instead of sleeping over again like we tend to do."

What was wrong with sleeping over?

You cursed yourself, so desperate. Harry had spent loads of time with you recently, and spending one night apart would definitely be for the best. And better yet, he was still offering to see you today.

"Okay," you said. "Should I come over now? What's the address?"

"I can send a car out for you. It should be there in half an hour, is that okay?" he asked.

"A car?" you asked. "Harry, what sort of place do you work for?"

"I told you, it's a business firm. They've got Escalades to bring clients here all the time."

"All right. So I should be ready in half an hour, right?"

"Yes. Although I don't know what you'd need to do to get ready. You're only listening to my presentation and coming out for a beer," he said.

"Dunno. I like to look pretty for you, Daddy," you said, wondering what your flatmates' and Harry's reactions would be. He'd teased you about going down on you in front of them, and now it was your turn to have your fun.

Carla dropped her salad on the floor, making you turn away and hold in your laughter.

"Are your mates there with you?" Harry asked after a second.

"Yes," you said softly.

"You are... You are the naughtiest little thing--"

"I have to get ready. Love you, bye," you said into the phone, hanging up and turning again to face your mates.

"Y/N, you minx!" Carla yelled. "Oh my God! You call him that?"

You nodded, giddy. "He really likes it, calls me his little girl. It's so fucking sexy, I--... I have never experienced anything like it."

She shrieked. Adrienne, on the other hand, hadn't spoken or moved since you spoke the point of controversy.

"Adrienne?" you prompted.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but maybe you were right to give him another chance," she said.

The three of you giggled, you glad that perhaps this was the beginning of them mending their view of Harry.  
-  
You changed before you left, now wearing a red summery dress and sandals. Still, when you stepped into the office, you couldn't help but feel underdressed. Everything was so pristine and shiny and huge. You almost felt like you'd shrunken, not unlike Alice in Wonderland.

"Hi," you said to the secretary, smiling shyly. "I'm Y/N Y/L/N, here for Mr. Harry Styles."

"Harry?" she asked you. Her blonde hair shone even under the office lights. She looked to be around Harry's age, maybe a bit younger.

"Yes," you replied, confused. "He sent a car for me. I can call him--"

"Honey, you can't be here," the woman said, her face pitying.

"What do you mean?" you asked. "I'm here to see his presentation he's giving on Friday."

She widened her eyes, not believing you. "All right. I'll call and ask." She picked up the phone and dialed. "Harry, there's a girl out here." She spent a few more minutes on the phone nodding along. Eventually, she hung up the phone and returned to clicking at her computer silently.

You took a deep breath, nervous now. He'd told you to come by, right?

Suddenly, Harry emerged from a squared-off room and walked to meet you. "Hi, love-y," he greeted. He reached forward and laced his fingers in yours. "Sorry, I didn't think it'd be a problem. Come on back."

You felt the woman's ice-cold stare on you, making your face redden.

Harry frowned at you, noticing your timidness. "It's my fault, baby. Not to worry." He let go of your hand and brushed your hair back behind your ear. "I'm sorry, sweetness. Kiss?" he mumbled.

You nodded because you weren't stupid, and he met his lips with yours, wet and sticky and hot. Your hands gripped his forearms tightly as a form of retaliation. When he pulled away, he was wearing a big smirk, the kind you came to know as his expression when he was enjoying teasing you.

"I'm here to see your presentation," you said when you recovered from his affections. It was lame, you knew, but his face seemed to indicate that he liked leaving you dumbfounded.

"I know, dear. Let's go." He grabbed your hand again and pulled you back towards his office. "Thanks, Sarah. She's all good," he said casually before you left the blonde behind.

"Harry," you said softly as he walked you back to his office.

"Hm?"

You could still feel her eyes on you, lasers in the back of your head.

They definitely got together at one point or another. The way she was acting was immature, and that likely stemmed from dated passion. You'd seen it a million times whether it was Carla spying an old ex on a date or a tacky TV plot.

You shook your head as he opened the door for you. You entered ahead of him and heard him shut the door behind you. "What is it, babe?"

You didn't even know how to articulate it. So you swirled around, smiling. "What do you think of my dress?"

He walked to meet you and put his hands on your hips, looking down at your body. "I think... I think you look beautiful."

You tilted your head up to catch his lips with yours. He was surprised by that apparently, taking a second to collect himself and kiss you back. It didn't take long, though, for that greediness from the lobby to shine through again, his hands palming your ass and his lips domineering yours.

"Harry--" you moaned.

"Oh? Different name than on the phone," he mused jokingly.

"Not here," you whispered, kissing him sentimentally then, slowing his roll.

He took your cue, backing down and meeting you where you were, his grip on you loosening. And then you were just kissing, saccharine and loving. You rested your hands on his upper chest under his suit jacket and could feel his heartbeat steady under your palm, helping you keep your pace.

Eventually, you pulled away, mindful of his presentation and your environment. Even if the door was shut, it wasn't right to be making out. You told yourself that you wouldn't be doing it at all had it not been for Sarah's behavior, but you didn't know if that was the honest truth. It did feel nice to have his sweet lips on you after that though, assuring you that he was done with whatever he clearly once had with her.

He held onto the moment as long as you'd let him, pecking your lips until you rolled them, cutting him off.

"Hm?" he asked.

"I told you," you said, "I'm here to listen to your presentation, remember?"

He sighed. "Yeah, I know. Wanna sit?"

You furrowed your brow, focused now. You wanted to truly help him prepare. "Is that how you're going to greet the partners on Friday?" you asked. You stepped out of his hold and folded your arms. "Should I go from the room and enter? How will it work on Friday? I want to have a real test run."

He smiled at you. "I will meet them in their office Friday morning."

"Oh, so I should sit, and you should come in," you said, walking over to a chair at his desk. "Should I move this someplace?" you asked.

"Yeah," he said, more serious now. "I'll move it." He walked over and took the chair and put it near the center of the room. "They'll be sitting in a row with a big table, but that'll do. I'll walk in and bring the projector down," he said, "and then I'll start."

"Right, but don't forget to shake my hand and give me a big handsome smile," you told him.

"Damn, Y/N, they should hire you as a business prof," he said sarcastically.

You rolled your eyes. "It doesn't hurt," you said, "especially coming from you."

He winked at you, making your heart flutter, and began walking to leave his office.

"Hey," you said, and he turned to look at you. "Think of something that makes you happy and then think of that same thing before you go in on Friday. Something to make you smile, a memory or something," you said.

"I've told you that you're the most adorable person I've met, haven't I?" he asked you.

"Do it, okay? It's what I do when I practice for my presentations at uni for my flatmates," you said. "It works really well, helps me remember my practice run."

"I will, I will," he said, finally leaving the room. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched the door, trying to sense if he really listened to you. He took a minute before he opened the door, striding in confidently. "Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N," he told you. He walked over to you and you stood to shake his hand. "How are you?" he asked.

"I'm well, thank you, Mr. Styles," you replied, sitting back down. 

He pulled the projector down and went over to his desk to set up the presentation on his computer. It didn't take more than a minute. He was prepared. "I'm very much looking forward to hearing your thoughts today," you said as he walked back over to the projector.

"Thank you, Ms. Y/L/N. I'm very excited to share them with you. Over the years I've been here, I really feel like I've learned precisely what this company's goals are, and I really believe that this is the best way to meet them," he said.

"Goals," you said, intrigued at that point. You were going to let him begin, but you couldn't let him say something so vague and not expand on it. "What are our goals, Mr. Styles?"

"Firstly, expanding our client base," he said. "Otherwise, we're looking to open a new branch in Ireland by my plan, and I think you'll really like to hear why."

You nodded. "I would. Please, go ahead," you said, and then he was off. He began strong, and you were able to follow him pretty well until he got to explaining some business figures.   
Your mind drifted to Sarah's possessiveness as he flipped through the meaningless graphs. What if your instincts were wrong and he was with her right now? What if they had sex this morning? 

The worst part was that he had the right to. You still hated the thought.

He should be with you and you only. You were his baby. It was only natural.

Your thoughts subsided as you were able to pick him back up again towards the end, and you could tell his points were valid and exciting. You actually felt quite proud of him when it came to a close.

"I really hope you'll take every detail of my model into consideration," he said sincerely. "I didn't design it to come in parts, you see. Mr. Neal directed me to design an entire business model, and that's what I've done. If you have any questions, please, I'd love to answer," he said.

"I have one," you said, feeling bold and scared all at the same time. "Have you slept with the secretary?" you asked, trying to keep your voice as casual as you meant it. You knew he had; it was written all over her jealous face.

He grimaced, realizing the facade of the presentation was over. "A year ago now, yeah."

Your face fell. You weren't disappointed at the fact that he had, but that he'd done it while he was with Jane.

"It's nothing, though," he said. "She's just... I regret it, obviously. She doesn't know how to act about it."

"Was there any point that you were honest in your relationship with Jane?" you asked.

He cleared his throat. "First six months, yes."

"What changed?" you asked.

He scoffed uncomfortably, looking at his shoes. "Dunno. She... She got to hanging around the wrong people. I found out she was entertaining this prick she told me not to worry about... I suppose it started there, really," he said, looking up at you. "I never really did find out if something happened between them. I just... I was so mad at her. I couldn't understand it. She has this great family, you know? You and your parents, who love each other so much, and she can't get it together? It grew frustrating. And I knew... I knew she had to have done it at some point, gone outside of us. There were too many times where she wouldn't tell me where the hell she had been, too many times her friends giggled behind my back. I don't know. She was my first serious girlfriend, and she went and slept around all the time. It hurt, hurt to know she was making an idiot out of me. So I did it back, a lot," he said. "I suppose I thought I'd teach her, and then she never really seemed to mind that much. We just tiptoed around it the whole time, calling ourselves boyfriend and girlfriend and doing all the couple stuff but not really doing it because we weren't committed to each other. The cheating isn't what made her leave. Italy was the catalyst there."

"You never thought to break up with her?" you asked.

"And do what?" 

"Sleep around on your own time," you answered simply.

"I did love her," he defended. "And I wouldn't have gotten to see you anymore," he said softly.

"You could have broken up with her and had me any second you wanted!" you exclaimed.

"Right, like you would've gone for that," he said, sardonically gesturing.

"What the hell are we doing right now?" you asked.

He put his face in his hands. "Look. Look, I'm sorry, okay? But is any of this what you didn't already know? If you don't want this, I told you you can leave. I can't stop you, I won't. But I told you in that hotel that I'd try for you, and aren't I?" he asked you.

"I don't know, Harry, I think maybe I should ask you in six months' time," you said.

He frowned. 

"You had a great presentation, Harry, it was wonderful. I mean it, I think it's outstanding," you said, standing up. "I... I don't know. I think I'm going to go to the loo." You left the room and left him inside alone.  
-  
You re-entered his office with an announcement. "I need to trust you," you said after spending fifteen minutes deliberating with yourself.

He looked up from the spreadsheets he was flipping through at his desk. "Can you?" he asked.

You nodded. "I can. I'm sorry," you said, and though you were, you weren't sure you should've said it.

"No, I get it. I... I remember what it was like to be paranoid. I hated it," he said. "I'm sure Jane knows what it's like as well," he reflected softly.

You walked over to his desk, leaned down, and kissed his cheek. "Well, it's something I have already taken into account, so I just need to push it out of my mind. You asked me for help with your presentation, and I made it about me. That wasn't fair. I'm sorry."

"Were you able to concentrate?" he asked you.

"I was," you said, "and I meant it, I thought it was very good. You were confident, and I'm no businesswoman, but I think it makes really good sense, what you've planned. I was a little thrown off with that bit about Ireland, but I get it now. And you seem to really believe in it, which I think is all that truly matters," you said. "You can really tell how much you care for the company and know it well and want it to grow."

"Okay," he said slowly, "now imagine that you're seventy years old and rich as shit, and your third wife calls every morning and threatens divorce which you know will cost you your yacht if you don't make more money in the next year."

You didn't know what to say to that. "I still think you did grand."

He shrugged. "Oh, good enough, then. Do you still want a drink?" he asked.

"Yes, I think a drink would do us both some good."  
-  
You were sitting at a small table in a dark restaurant, both nursing your poisons of choice. You were impartial to a vodka grapefruit while Harry stuck with a beer. He really wasn't much of a drinker, you were finding.

He was asking you all about your comprehensive project for next semester that you were currently drafting. You had your theme all worked out, and you needed to make five pieces. You had a lot of ideas for it, it was just a matter of deciding which elements to incorporate with different mediums and things like that. And then soon enough, you needed to get started actually making the damn pieces.

"You really liked my presentation?" he asked you after a lull of silence.

"Yes, Harry, I told you," you said. "Would I lie? Really, ask me whatever you want about it. And if you want to practice more, I'd love to hear it however many times."

He sighed. "No, you don't have to hear it again. I just... I'm only sick and tired of them not taking me seriously around there. I know I'm paid well, and the partners are really great, always understanding and whatever you want your boss to be like. I just... I can't shake the feeling that maybe I'm going nowhere, and I'm nervous no other place would hire me," he said.

Your jaw fell. "Are you... Like, are you joking?" you asked. "Are you sincerely joking me? You, Harry Styles, going nowhere?" You laughed. "Harry!"

"It's not funny, Y/N. I just..." he trailed. "Trust me, they ask me for this shit all the time, and I put real effort into it, and then nothing comes of it. They just do what they've been doing for forty-odd years. I'm tired of it," he said.

You grabbed his hand, serious then. "Maybe you could apply some other places if you're that unhappy."

"Yeah, and with what resume? I haven't changed jack shit where I am," he said.

"You could tell them about all the proposals you've written. Harry, if the people at your company won't listen to you, some other place will," you said. "I understand you're frustrated, but it's no reason to assume your career is over. I promise that if you landed this job right out of graduation, another will come if you want it. Have you even tried applying anyplace else?" you asked.  
He sighed. "No, because... Well, I don't know. I should just focus on the presentation for now," he said.

You nodded. "All right, I think that's a good idea. Let me know if you ever want to talk it through, okay? I mean, I suppose I'm not the best source, but... I don't know, Harry. You know I care about you and I'll listen, don't you?" you asked.

He lifted your hand to his mouth and kissed it. "Yeah, I do. Can I take your picture?"

You batted your eyes, flattered. "Sure."

He got out his phone and snapped one before typing into it for a bit.

"What are you doing?" you asked, confused.

He turned his phone around and showed you that he was posting an Instagram story. The picture of you was cute, your hand in his and you smiling with your drink. He put a blinking purple heart in the corner of the picture and tagged you.

"Can I post it?" he asked.

You smiled widely. He wanted to post you for everyone to see. That would ward off at least some potential romantic conquests, wouldn't it? Maybe?

"Yes, thank you," you said.

"Don't thank me," he said, smiling, taking his phone back and posting the story before putting his phone back in his pocket.

You continued your conversation about Harry's work dilemma until your phone vibrated in your purse. "Sorry, I should get it," you said. "Mum's just been a little uptight since I left the country without her knowing, which is definitely on me," you told him.

He nodded. "I understand, take your time."

You got out your phone and found that it wasn't your mother who texted you, but Jane.

"Y/N passed the Daddy test! Oh, they grow up so fast... Don't get too comfortable, little Y/N"

Instantly, Harry sensed your obvious shock. "What's wrong? Is she all right? We can go--"

"No," you replied, shaking your head and withdrawing your hand from his. You could sense his panic until you continued, "No, it's not that."

"What's wrong then, love?"

You looked up at him then and sighed. You rolled your eyes. "It's just Jane. She's... She's being mean like she knows how, I suppose."

"What'd she say?" he asked, and tears immediately clouded your vision at the thought of revealing the humiliating and invasive text, only making him more determined. 

"It's embarrassing," you said.

"How? I can only imagine it's embarrassing on her behalf, that she's bullying her little sister from across an ocean," he told you. "Let me see the message, Y/N, I know how she can be. I promise nothing's going to make me agree with her."

You pouted. "It's... It's petty, Harry."

"Even more reason for me to see it. I'll call and get it straightened out just as soon as I see what she said, okay?" he comforted you.

Harry calling Jane to cuss her out.

That could be fun.

You sniffled. "Okay," you said, unlocking your phone again. "Just... Don't make it weird." You handed your phone to him and he made a noise of genuine disgust.

"Y/N," he said, "How often does she do shit like this to you? Look, you aren't even surprised."

"It's just how she is," you told him. "We're sisters."

"You're sisters, so she can berate you like this? Is that what she's convinced you?" he asked.

You shrugged. "I dunno. Any time I try to bring it up with my mum, she tells me that. And obviously there's some things I can't bring to her, like this," you said quieter.

"Can I use your phone once we get back in the car?" he asked, handing it back to you.

"I suppose so, why?"

"She texted you to pick a fight so that you'd call her," he said. "I know her too well. I want her to be surprised when she picks up and it's me."

You nodded. "Sounds like a plan."  
-


	9. Where You Lead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay i have a plan for how everything is coming together now :) Also I don't know if u guys noticed but I started naming the chapters song titles so listen to the songs before/after/while reading if u like:)

You sat in the passenger's seat listening to Jane's dial tone. Harry held the phone so the speaker faced him, his lips pursed and eyes dark waiting for her to answer as the phone rang and rang.

"Maybe she isn't going to pick up," you said, scratching your arm nervously. You weren't so convinced this was a good idea all of a sudden. Jane could be rotten and vulgar, and you weren't sure you were ready for her to insult you in front of Harry.

"We'll call again."

Just when you thought the call would expire, she answered the phone with, "I have twelve messages on my phone right now asking me how in the fuck he could have settled for you, do you know that?" 

You flinched at her words, turning away from Harry.

"You ought to shut the fuck up right now," he retaliated. "Do you hear me, Jane? Leave her alone."

"Harry?" she asked.

"Yes, it's me, and I read what you sent her. You're... You are despicable. I understand you being upset at this, but... You always are so mean to her, and I've hated it so long--"

"Don't you think that's what makes it worse?" she sobbed suddenly.

"What makes it worse," he began, his voice getting louder, "is you being the piece of shit you've always been! Don't you think I like her because she's actually a good person? And you can't stand that. And every single one of those people messaging you knows, if they even exist, that she's three times the person you are."

"You don't underst--"

"No, I understand perfectly well," he cut her off. "Apologize. Apologize right now, and promise not to do this shit anymore. I won't have it. She doesn't deserve this, and you know it. You know she gives a damn about you, that she's tried to handle this the best she can, but it's pretty fucking impossible when you're bullying her. She shouldn't be punished because I love her. It was me who sought her out, me. Send me your mean texts, Jane, like the fucking schoolchild you are. Fuck you, and apologize. She's sitting right across from me."

You turned back over to him, your face pale from witnessing such a confrontation. Since you and Jane moved out of the house, you'd gotten a lot better at standing up for yourself, except when it came to her. You never thought you'd hear an apology from her in your life.

"I'm sorry that you stole my boyfriend," she said annoyedly.

"I didn't steal him," you replied before Harry could yell some more. 

He looked at you surprisedly. You grabbed your phone from him.

"I didn't steal him, Jane, and I never would. I... I was so jealous of you when you were with him, but I could never do that to you. You're my sister. We're meant to love each other. Why can't..." you trailed, sighing. "The sad thing is, you're no meaner to me now than you've always been, so I can't really bring myself to care. I don't accept your fake fucking apology. Fuck right off, how's that?" you asked, and hung up.

Harry smiled at you. "Nicely done."

"Thank you," you said softly.

He grabbed your head from behind and pulled you into him, smooching your forehead. "I mean it, I'm proud of you. I know that was hard," he spoke against your temple. He pulled away then. "But you did a good job. And I'm always here to help you. Let me know if she ever does anything like that again." He started the car. "I'm taking you back to your flat. I imagine you have lots of studying to do."

You sighed, knowing he was right. "I wish we could just be together all the time," you spoke, regretting the words as they left your lips. You had such a crush on him, it was so obvious. He was likely growing tired of all the time you spent together while you yearned for his touch, his laugh, his glance.

He grabbed your hand. "I know, baby, I know. But uni will be over soon and then maybe we'll have more time. And I can take you anywhere you wanna go."

You smiled at him. "Yeah, maybe. I'll be busy getting my exhibition up, but sure."

"When'll that be showing?" he asked. "I want to be the first one there. I got an email from the school that your sculpture has been shipped, by the way."

"It opens at the end of June," you told him. "Do you have a place for it?"

"A place for what?"

"My sculpture, silly. I told you I don't want it," you said, though those words were sneered at him on the beach in Santorini. But you thought about it, and you decided that he really should have it. You didn't need it, and you'd rather he have it to remember you by.

He tore his eyes off the road, looking at you. "You really don't? Y/N, I thought--"

"No, you bought it. You should have it. You like it, don't you?" you asked, knowing he'd fold now. 

"I love it, it's outstanding," he affirmed. "I just want to make sure you don't want it. I bought it for you."

"I know, and that was really sweet, but I'd rather you have it, really," you told him.

"Okay. You can change your mind anytime," he said.

"Where are you going to put it? I think it'd look nice in your living room."

He smiled at you. "I'll let you decide where to place it when you come over next. How's that?" he asked.

"Sounds good."  
-  
He walked you back up to your door and kissed you on your porch. "When do I see you next?"

"Whenever you want," you told him.

He wrapped his arms around your waist. "How about Friday after work? I'm sorry, but I think tomorrow I'll just be a nervous wreck before my presentation. I can call, though."

"Don't apologize, Harry, it's one day," you said softly. You pecked his lips. "You're doing really well."

He blushed a bit, making your heart swell. "Just want to... To show you how serious I am about you."

You placed your hands on his shoulders. "What are we doing Friday night then? Can we go out?"

"Out where?"

"Out dancing and drinking. I missed you in Greece. It was lonely dancing by myself," you told him.

His hands moved to palm your bum. "You were so hot, though, calling me Daddy like that," he said lowly.

Your face heated. "Harry--"

"You think I wouldn't remember?" he asked you quietly. "You whiny little baby, so desperate for me--"

Your front door opened. "Hello, lovebirds," sounded Carla's voice from behind you.

You expected Harry's hands to move, but they stayed firmly in place on your ass as he greeted her with a smile. "Hi, Carla. Sorry, you know I have to steal all the time I can with her."

You spun around to face her as well, and he pressed his hands against your stomach now to hold you against him, his crotch against your ass he was just cupping. 

"Harry wants to come out with us Friday night," you said suddenly. You were hoping he'd just go along with it. Plus, you wanted your flatmates to like him again. Apparently, Carla was already halfway there.

"He does?" Carla asked, and you saw in her face that she was definitely taking note of his tight hold on you.

"Yeah, I'll buy drinks," he offered, and you looked up at him confusedly. His attendance was uncertain seconds ago, and now he was offering to pay?

"Then you're very welcome to accompany us," Carla said half-jokingly. "What's the occasion?"

"He's going to nail his presentation at work on Friday," you answered for him. 

"Hopefully," he tacked on humbly.

"Well, you have to now. How sad would that be, you buying our drinks after blowing it?" you asked, slithering out of his hold then and turning to face him. You were finding that you really liked teasing him. You kissed him. "Bye, baby. I'll see you Friday." You began to enter your flat behind Carla.

He cocked his head at that. Baby, that was his word for you, not the other way around. You liked teasing him, and apparently he liked it back.

"I'll call you tomorrow."

"Okay. Love you."

"I love you, Y/N, you know that. Bye," he said with a smile before turning to walk back down your steps to the street.  
-  
When Harry called on Thursday, he arranged that he would drive you all to the pubs.

"No fun," you said. "You don't really like to drink, though, do you?" you asked.

"No, not much," he said. 

"Any reason for that?" you asked.

"Mm, not really. I don't know. Jane and I drank a lot with her mates," he said.

"Oh, okay," you said awkwardly. "Carla and Adrienne wouldn't mind if you--"

"I know, baby, I didn't mean anything by it." He paused. "I'd rather watch over you girls anyhow."

"You'll dance with me, won't you?" you asked then.

"Of course, that's why I'm coming."

There were a lot of clipped answers from him during this phone call, a lot of silent pauses as well. "Are you nervous for tomorrow?" you asked.

"Yes, sorry."

"Don't apologize, Harry. You're fine. It's natural to be nervous, but I promise you'll do great. You remember what to do before you go in, right?"

"Yeah, think of you swimming up to me," he replied naturally, and you beamed, your cheeks rosy. 

"You're sweet," you said softly.

"You're beautiful."

"Stop!" you exclaimed. "Harry, I'm already in love with you. You make it impossible to stop thinking of you with all this."

"All this what?"

"All these sweet words and touches and..." you trailed.

"Touches? What kinds of touches? Like yesterday on the porch with your ass all pressed against m--"

"Y/N, your essay is due tonight," Adrienne called, reminding you, as you had been on the phone for going on an hour. Your mum had called before Harry.

"Yes, exactly those touches. I can't wait until next week," you said. You'd never dreaded your time of the month more. "But I have to go. I really should finish my paper. Do well tomorrow, okay? And remember I love you and I think you're smart and excellent. I'll be thinking of you."

"I love you back. I'll let you go. See you tomorrow. Goodbye."

"Bye."  
-  
"How did it go?" you asked as you got into the passenger seat of his car, Adrienne and Carla piling in the back. You smooched his cheek as well.

He was dressed very casually, more casual than you'd ever seen him in a slightly worn gray T-shirt and black jeans. Vans sneakers rested on the pedals of his Volvo.

"Good," he replied, "Really good, actually. I really think I got through to them. They had lots of really detailed questions that I loved to answer. I'm really thinking that they'll go through with it."

"That's amazing, Harry! I knew you'd do well. I'm so proud of you," you told him.

"What is it?" Adrienne asked.

"Harry had a really important presentation at work today, and he did really well. Of course he did," you answered her.

"That's great. Congrats, Harry," Adrienne said.

"Yes, that's something to celebrate," Carla agreed.

He smiled. "Okay, where to?"  
-  
"Let's leave," you whispered into his neck in between kisses. You were three drinks and three pubs in, and desperate to get his shirt off.

He chuckled. "And do what, hon? Your mates are still here."

"We're not far from the flat, they can Uber back. And I," you said, "I want you to use me."

"Use you?" he asked, still moving to the beat of the music with you. "Tell me more about that."

You pressed your mouth against his ear. "Force yourself down my throat." Alcohol was your friend.

He gripped your hips and brought you against him, grinding into you now. You moaned shamelessly, feeling him and matching his thrusts.

"You want that, huh?" he asked. "You sure you can handle that, babe? Look at you, squirming when I tease you over your clothes."

"I want to try," you said. "I want you to hold my head and thrust into me." You wanted to experiment with him being rougher with you, and this was one of your only options right now.  
His grin stretched his face, halting his movements. "Is that right?"

"Yes, Daddy--"

He gripped your hand so quickly and strongly, it sort of hurt. "Let's go, then. Where are your mates? We should tell them we're leaving."

You smiled, searching for them. You spied them at the bar and pulled Harry in their direction.

You met up with Carla and Adrienne. "Hey, can you Uber back? We want to leave."

Adrienne gawked at you. "You're leaving me with her?" she asked.

"What?"

Carla turned to you and you immediately saw what Adrienne was talking about. Harry's offer to pay for drinks had encouraged Carla to drink too much too fast, much like you had last weekend. Her makeup was smudged from sweat, and her face muscles were lazily relaxed, her eyes drooping drunkenly.

"I can drive home," Harry said. "I haven't drank."

"She'll puke in your car," Adrienne said. "I just had to pull her away from some girl. She almost fought someone again. I thought she'd know better to take it easy before finals week."

"Finals?" Harry asked, turning to you. "Y/N, have you had any time to study? We've been together all week."

"I have," you said, a little timid. You really hadn't. You were usually so prepared and responsible as a student, but Harry had become your first priority lately. "I'll be fine."

He sighed. "Okay, first things first. We need to get her home."

Carla was slumped over the bar counter now. You tapped on her shoulder. "Carls, come on. We've gotta go."

"Go where?" she drawled.

"Harry's taking us all home," you told her.

"Harry? Handsome Harry," she spoke monotonously. 

Harry smiled. "C'mon, love. Let's get going."

"'s not funny," you grumbled.

"She's wasted, Y/N," Harry said, bending down and moving her off the barstool. He stood her up and she leaned into his arm. "Let's get you home, Carla. You need to study tomorrow."

Harry began walking her out of the bar, you and Adrienne following behind. "You think she'll get sick?" you asked her.

"Hopefully not," she said. "I don't know. She's not that far gone. She isn't blacked out."

You got into Harry's Volvo and stayed quiet as he drove back to your flat. "Are you still coming back to mine?" he asked you quietly.

You looked at him. "I want to."

He nodded. "Then you can."  
-  
Harry helped you all walk Carla up to your flat. 

"I think Harry and I are going to go to his. Is that okay?" you asked Adrienne. "She's good, right?"

"Yeah, she's fine. Thanks so much for the drinks, Harry. Have a good night, you guys," Adrienne said, ducking Carla into the front door.

Your drive back to Harry's place was quiet, too. He seemed to be really concentrated on the road, not looking over at you once.

He let you in his door and took off his shoes. You followed his lead and looked up once your shoes were off to find your statue sitting in his living room. "I love it," you said.

He looked over where you were looking and realized what you were talking about and smiled. "Yeah, me too. It looks good. Is that a good place for it?"

"Yes, that's right where I imagined it," you told him. 

"Good," he said.

You looked back over to him. The words exchanged between you in the pub rang in your ears. "So."

He widened his eyes. "We don't have to--"

"I want to," you interrupted him. You grabbed his hand. "Please, Daddy."

He shut his eyes. "Are you drunk?"

"Just tipsy."

"Do you hurt?" he asked. "You know, from your..."

"I feel fine," you assured him. Your cramps from earlier in the week had dissipated by now.

He sighed. "I don't want you to think... I'm just going to feel bad knowing I can't really repay you."

"Then we'll make up for it another time," you said, "right, Daddy?"

He took a deep breath. "Sit on the couch, little girl."

"Yes, Daddy."

He opened his eyes and watched you behave for him, taking a seat and looking over at him near the door.

He slowly stalked over to you and took your face in his hands, tilting it up to him. You noticed that you were at the perfect height of his waist, and that this was what he was planning to do later. 

"Open your mouth."

You did as told and his gaze intensified. You wondered if he was going to have you take him right now, but you weren't nervous. It was like a calm fog had washed over you. You were going to do what he wanted, and you trusted him, so you'd be fine no matter what. You were there for him and for him only, incredibly single-minded and peaceful.

"Comfortable?" he asked you eventually.

"Yes," you replied softly.

"Good," he said, sitting down to meet you and easing your nerves. "I didn't want you to have to get on your knees if you didn't need to."

He stayed very still, just looking at you in the darkness. You should've been uncomfortable, but you weren't.

"You said back in the pub that you wanted me to use you," he said. "Did you mean that?" he asked.

You nodded. "I wanna try. I wanna be good for you."

He nodded a singular time, kissing you gently. "Okay. Stay very still." He lifted your shirt from your head and took off your bra, throwing both things on the floor. His hands held your breasts, kneading them. "So pretty, baby. Kiss my neck now. Make yourself useful, dumb slut."

The words were degrading, but so hot. You moved as if in a trance to his neck, sucking gently.

"Moan. Touch me." 

You whined and moved your hands up and down his chest, each time nearly touching his belt.

"Say my name." 

"Daddy."

"Say my name and mean it. Cry it out. Make a whore of yourself, c'mon," he chastised you, and the second you thought he might be disappointed in you, you became all the more determined.

"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!" you cried into his neck, moving to take off his shirt, and his hand gripped your wrist harshly.

"Look at me," he spoke darkly.

You obeyed, pulling away to meet his eyes.

"Did I ask you to take off my shirt?" he asked you. "Only good girls get things like that. Earn it."

You pouted, confused.

"Please me," he stated plainly. "Try again. Don't think I'm being mean; I'm not being mean to you right now. I'm about to be if you don't figure it out."

You paled. "Daddy, may I sit on your lap?" Maybe that could help.

He scoffed. "No. Suck on my neck and touch me as I instructed you. You need to listen, Y/N." He made your name on its own sound like an insult, not little Y/N.

"Yes, Daddy, I will." You leaned forward again and groped his chest more eagerly now, your lips more aggressive as well on his neck. "Mm, Daddy," you mumbled.

He resumed massaging your breasts. "Not good enough." 

You shut your eyes in frustration and began really assaulting his neck, greedy and dirty, biting and licking him. 

"Say my name," he managed, his hands becoming sloppier on your breasts.

"Daddy."

"Who's good for you, baby?"

"You, Daddy."

"Much better, princess. Much, much better," he gasped out as you assaulted his neck. "Undo my belt and take me out and pump me."

You shakily followed orders, pushing down his pants finally and then his boxers, revealing him only partially hard. 

"What the fuck are you looking at?" he snapped. "Do as you're told, Y/N."

"Yes, Daddy. I'm sorry."

"Oh, you'll be sorry," he muttered. 

You stroked him gently then and watched as he held in any noises threatening to pass his lips. "You're shit at this," he managed out.

Your face fell. You weren't exactly very experienced, but you never had any complaints before. To hear one come from Harry of all people hurt.

"Do you need Daddy to teach you?" he asked, not kind or unkind, just spoken.

You looked up at him and nodded.

"Not very smart, are you? I like for you to use your words, Y/N. It's not fucking rocket science, kitten," he condescended.

"I'm sorry. Yes, please teach me how," you said, and his eyes turned cold until you tacked on, "Daddy."

"All right. Now, you probably aren't very good at this because you haven't done it much, and when you have, whatever bloke you're touching is just happy someone as pretty as you is touching their dick and they don't say anything to you because they can't stand to hurt your feelings. But I'll teach you, little Y/N. Spit on your hand."

You didn't hesitate, spitting onto your palm.

"Okay, now, be gentler about it. And look me in the eye, for fuck's sake. You were basically giving a handjob to a mannequin. Make it hot, babe."

You nodded, touching him again and remembering to be gentler. You glued your eyes to his, parting your lips slowly first in instinct but ultimately realizing it would remind him of what was coming next.

"Set a rhythm," he muttered. "Keep your mouth open, I like that."

You committed to a pace, feeling him warm and harden in your hand. It was satisfying, knowing your effect on him. Still, he kept his moans to a minimum, humbling you.

"Enough," he spoke finally and you retracted your hand. "Are you sure?" he whispered, more like the Harry you'd known for two years.

You nodded. "I want to make you proud, Daddy."

He leaned into you and kissed your lips. "You want to take me, baby girl? I'm asking because I don't want to do anything you don't want to do, but I'm not going to go easy. You can stop me at any time. Just grab my arm and I'll stop, okay?"

"Okay," you said. "I can do this," you assured him and yourself. You trusted him, and you wanted this--to feel used by him.

"I know you can, baby," he said softly, caressing your cheek then. "So good for me."

You hummed in contentment, feeling redeemed from his earlier jabs. 

"Breathe through your nose, princess," he whispered as a final word of advice before he stood as he did before, towering over you, hard against his T-shirt he refused to take off.

He rested his hands at the base of your neck. "Grab my wrist," he said, and you did as told, as always.

"There. If you want me to stop, that's what you do, okay? Grab my wrist and I'll stop," he said.

You nodded, retracting your hand then. "Yes, Daddy."

He almost winced in pleasure. "Fuck, baby... You're so innocent, aren't you? Not once I'm done. Open your mouth."

You parted your lips and opened your mouth wide enough for him, remembering your first time in the backseat of his car. He'd praised you then, and you had no idea what you were doing. Now, he was going to be in control.

"Fuck," he cursed before pushing his hips forward, his tip entering your mouth. Slowly but surely, he forced himself down your throat, you breathing through your nose the whole time, feeling him, warm and sensitive in your mouth.

Your eyes began to water as he stayed painfully still, your windpipe obviously obstructed by his length.

"I know," he whispered, "Sh, I know. Just... Can I take your picture?"

You nodded, your eyes glazing over. 

"Sh, I'll be quick. Baby, you're doing so good. Hollow your cheeks. That's it, little girl, little Y/N," he praised you, frantically reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone, the sound of his phone camera clicking and demeaning you. 

You were his--his to be recorded, fondled, fucked. You loved it and wanted more.

You whimpered, feeling your heart rate increase as you hadn't breathed in over a minute now.

"I know," he panted, throwing his phone to the ground in haste and wrapping his hands back around the base of your neck. "Okay, 'm gonna move now," he whispered, and his hands gently pulled you off him almost completely, allowing you to breathe for a good few seconds before pushing you back up onto him again. He groaned. "Fucking hell!"

Tears coated your cheeks. You bored your eyes into him, communicating all the love and pain you felt in this moment. You loved watching him dominate you as his face twitched in pleasure.  
He relented a bit, pushing you back and forth to a dull rhythm now. You concentrated on your breathing, not in control of much else as he was guiding his dick up and down your throat.  
"So good, baby. So... F-Fucking good, little Y/N."

You whimpered, barely having time to catch your breath between his thrusts, but not daring to touch his wrist. He'd finish soon, you could tell, and you'd be okay.

"Cry. Cry for me," he told you.

So you let out a sob from the back of your throat and he lasted not five thrusts more, spasming in your mouth. He pulled out of you as soon as he came, allowing you to swallow and catch your breath.

He ripped his shirt over his head and kneeled to meet you then. "You're mine now, understand?" he asked you, "My baby, yeah? My little Y/N, mine," he gushed. "Come to Daddy now. I've gotcha. Not gonna hurt anymore, no?" He wrapped his arms around you and pulled your naked chest to his once he saw you breathing normally. Your face smothered into his shoulder, wanting to smell his sweat and cologne and lust and nothing else. "Gonna hold you right here. You can have whatever you want, baby girl. You've been so good for Daddy, hear me? Say something, kitten. Say something so I know you're--"

"I love you, Daddy," you uttered.

"I love you, too, babydoll. That's what you are, yeah? My doll. So perfect, so..." He kissed your hair. "There. Sh, you're okay now. I've gotcha. You're right here, aren't you? Are you breathing, babe?"

"Yes," you told him. "Yes, I'm fine. I feel... I feel happy."

He chuckled. "You're naughty, yeah? Like it rough? I was pretty harsh for a second there. But you know you're my little thing. I'd never really mean any of that, right?"

"I know," you murmured. It felt so dangerous and scary when he denied you or insulted you. You felt tethered to him; like you'd do anything for him. But he felt that same way for you. The mean words and harsh grips were only for show, however real they felt as they happened.

"I love you, baby-love. That'll never change, no matter what."

"Okay, I-I love you too, Harry."

"Sh, you're okay. I know. That was scary for you, hm? But you knew we could've stopped, right?" he asked. "Any time. Any time you don't want to do it anymore, we can stop."

"I know," you said. "I know, I wanted to keep going. It was scary, but... I still liked it."

"Good," he said, seeming relieved. "Good. And you made me so proud, hon, made me feel so good. There, there. It's all over now. Don't you worry. 'm not gonna make you do anymore. We'll just fall asleep, how's that? Or whatever you want, baby. Some kisses?"

"Yes," you breathed. 

As he pulled away from you only to kiss you, you realized that he was basically completely naked, on his knees for you, the waist of his jeans sitting at his thighs. You gripped his shoulders and returned his kiss, blushing all over. 

"You like this, yeah? When can I lick you again, pet?" he asked, his lips brushing against yours carelessly as he spoke.

"Sunday," you mumbled.

He kissed your nose. "I'll treat you right, baby, I promise. Daddy'll help you just as soon as I can. Want me to carry you up the steps?"

"Mhm."

"All right." He let go of his hold on you and you gripped his shoulders harder out of desperation, making him frown at you. "Oh, babe, I'm just fixing my pants. I shouldn't have let you go--"  
"Oh," you sighed of relief, feeling dumb. "I'm sorry." You shook your head at yourself and he kissed your temple while he zipped and buttoned his jeans. 

"Don't be sorry, baby. Just know I'm right here, I wouldn't leave you. Not after the good girl you've been, not ever, okay?" He looked right at you, focused in concern. 

"Okay," you said.

"C'mere, then, little girl," he muttered as he lifted you up with him and stood like you were nothing.

"So strong, Daddy," you marveled.

"I've gotcha, little Y/N. What do you wanna do upstairs, hm? Fall asleep?" He walked you up the steps. "You've got studying to do tomorrow, don't think I forgot."

You groaned, your head resting on his shoulder. "Don't wanna."

"I know you don't want to, but you should, baby. You work too hard at school to not do well on your finals," he told you. "I mean it, Y/N." He sat you on his bed finally and sat down with you. "You should take a shower and fall asleep."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm fine."

You really should get to bed so you could study as soon as possible the next day, and you knew it. You were beginning to remember everything you needed to do, and you couldn't imagine the things you weren't remembering after putting uni on the back burner for a week.

"No," he told you. "Get in the shower, really. You need to get home early tomorrow," he said. "We can cuddle when you get out, but you should fall asleep."

"Fine," you grumbled, getting out of bed. You were still topless. "You know, Harry, you really boss me around a lot."

"Only because I know what you're capable of, and I want to help you achieve it, not keep you from achieving it," he said. "Take a quick shower. I'm not going anywhere. I bought you... I got you some pads in there. They're the same kind from your purse, I hope you like 'em," he said gently.

You giggled, not believing how caring he could be. "Harry, you are so sweet."

"No, I just wanted you to--"

"I know," you cut him off. "Thank you. I'll be fast." You went into his master bath and took your shower.  
-  
"'m back," you said, dressed in boxers and a T-shirt that was on the toilet when you left the shower. You climbed into bed alongside him, pulling the covers up over you as you snuggled into his chest and found that he'd taken his jeans off.

"You can't get enough of me, can you?" he mumbled, massaging your hair. 

"Harry," you replied.

"Hm?"

"Can I... Can I touch your tattoos? I just wanna trace 'em," you said, your eyes raking over them.

"Yeah. What's mine is yours, babe."

"You don't mind?" you made sure.

"No. Just as long as you get some sleep here soon."

So you began, tracing his arm first. The ship, the heart, the little words scattered here and there. "So many," you spoke. "Why so many?"

"Because I wanted them. I don't know," he said, tired. "I get the best sleep of my life with you here with me, you know that?"

"Maybe I should stay over more often."

He jolted awake at that. "Ah, I forgot. I wanted to tell you."

"What?" your fingers moved to his chest, unbothered. You were getting tired, too.

He looked down at you, hazily tracing his chest. "No, I'll tell you in the morning," he said quietly. "You rest now."

"Is it--" Your exhausted mind started to wonder.

"Nothing bad, pet. Don't worry. Just sleep," he said. "Can you do that for me? I'm sorry, little Y/N. I didn't mean to worry you. You're okay. Goodnight, dear."

Your eyes shut, sleepy as you'd ever been as your fingers slowed to a halt on the bird of his right collarbone. "Okay. Love you, Harry."

"Love you right back, baby."  
-  
You woke up in the middle of the night, and your mind was frantic. What did Harry want to talk to you about? You weren't so bothered with your drowsiness, but now, you were very worried. What if he didn't want to see you anymore? You readjusted again and again on his chest, uncomfortable no matter how you were positioned.

"Quit moving," his voice grouchily sounded, alarming you. "C'mon, babe. You've gotta be kidding me. I'm trying to sleep here."

"Sorry," you said, and he kissed your head. 

"'s okay, just stay still. No moving allowed. Sleep, angel. You've gotta sleep to study. Shut your eyes," he soothed then, soft and gentle. His hand ran along your thigh. "Goodnight, little Y/N."

"Goodnight, Daddy." You shut your eyes and stayed perfectly still, willed by his command.

"That's such a good girl for me. See you tomorrow."  
-  
You woke up the next morning to him moving underneath you. "Hey," you said. "I thought no moving."

"Yeah, well, it's morning. We've gotta get you home," he said.

You rested on his chest a second, petting him up to his collarbones. "What was it that you wanted to talk to me about last night?" you asked. You looked up at him nervously.

"Is that what you were up about?" he asked, and sighed when you didn't reply. "Honey, it's nothing. I shouldn't have said anything. I just... Look at me."

You tilted your head up to meet his eyes.

"Listen. I don't think we should see each other this weekend," he said, pausing to gauge your reaction. 

Your eyes fell to look down at the comforter.

"When's your first exam?" he asked you.

"Monday."

"All right, how about that night, then? I just... You should study, babe. You know you should. I just... I worry that I'm cutting into your time for your school--your art, which you work so hard at. A weekend apart shouldn't kill us, no? And I'll call and text and FaceTime and we'll be all right, won't we?" he asked, rubbing your arm gently.

You held your arms to your chest and thought for a second. He was asking for two days away from you. You weren't even boyfriend and girlfriend, and last weekend, he took you away on holiday. Not to mention, you had at least spoken to him on the phone every day this week, seeing him multiple times. You had absolutely no reason for complaints. He was actually being very considerate bringing this up and asking you about it rather than cutting you off and leaving you to wonder why he was being distant.

You were just a brat when it came to him, a sucker for his attention. And that wasn't his fault.

"Okay," you spoke finally. "So... So I'll see you Monday?"

"Yeah, is that okay? I just want you to have your time to work, babe. You helped me with my work, and you've been so good for me, princess, I can't even tell you. So this isn't meant to seem like I don't appreciate those things, just trying to give you your space and let you do your things so you don't come to resent me. I just... I know if you don't have time for the things you love, we're not going to work, and I want us to work," he said, clearing his throat. "I mean, we want this to work, right?"

You smiled then, nodding. "Yes, I want this to work. Thank you, Harry, for communicating with me. I really appreciate that." You gave him a kiss. "I know what you mean. I guess I... I was a little greedy this week just because maybe I am insecure between us. But I do love you and I know you love me, so I should pull back a bit; you're right. You're right, I know," you said.

He kissed your nose. "It's not that I like you any less, just that I want us to have our own time, you especially. And after your first exam, we can have some time together and celebrate and see where it goes from there, how much time you need the rest of the week. But I think first we need a little break. Is that okay? Does that sound... Are you okay with that?" he asked.

"Yeah, I am," you said. "I really should do work. I usually am very on top of things. I guess I just got carried away with us."

He brought your hand to his mouth and kissed it. "You should never feel like you have to prioritize me over your work."

"I didn't feel obligated, it just happened," you told him, assuring him he did nothing wrong. "Thank you for thinking of me."

"I always do." He brought his arms around you to hug you. "There, okay? Is that okay? I'll see you on Monday?" He kissed your hair. "I'll miss you, babe, but we've gotta give you time to do your school. When the semester's over, we can have more time."

"It's one weekend, Harry," you told him. "It'll be fine."

"Okay. I just don't want you to be upset by it. You can just be so sensitive." 

He held you a moment longer, you not knowing what to say to that. He was right, but you didn't know if you should agree or apologize or say anything at all. 

"I should get dressed," you said after a bit, pulling out of his hold.

"Yeah, I'll drive you home."  
-


	10. gold rush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING::::: There is a point in this chapter where the consent is kind of blurred. I tried to write it so that it was an honest mistake, but I also know that these things can be triggering for people so please just read with caution and take care of yourself! I personally don't think it's bad or anything, but I don't know everyone's judgement so just proceed with that in mind.

The rest of Saturday and most of Sunday passed without seeing Harry. His absence was actually good motivation for your work; you dove in as a distraction. Sunday night rolled around and you were organizing flashcards on your living room couch, your flatmates in their bedrooms until Adrienne came into the room on her way to the kitchen.

"I have never seen you so rushed. You're like Carla; I didn't realize how behind you'd gotten," Adrienne said. "Do you think you'll do okay on your exam tomorrow?" she asked.

"I'll be fine, yeah," you said. "It was just a matter of learning all the new stuff and going back through the old stuff. I've done well in the class thus far."

"That's how finals work," she remarked almost sarcastically. "Hey, has Harry called you?"

"Not yet today, no." You shrugged it off, needing to focus before your exam tomorrow. He'd called you yesterday night before you went to bed to ask you how reviewing was going and to tell you he loved you. "Why?"

"I don't know. I thought you said you're supposed to have big plans with him tomorrow."

You were trying to push that concern from your mind all day. "We'll figure it out." You stretched your neck. "Ugh, maybe I do need a break, though. Just an hour or so, and then I have to get back to this." You pursed your lips. "Would it be too forward to text him and ask if I can call?"

She blinked. "Y/N, you call this man Daddy. I don't think anything is too forward at this point."

You sighed. Adrienne was no longer a sympathetic ear for your Harry concerns. Apparently, Friday night wasn't enough to win her over. You grabbed your phone and sent Harry a text. "Hey I'm taking a study break. Can I call you?" You set your phone on the couch and Adrienne entered the kitchen by then. You turned on the TV and waited for a reply.

Adrienne joined you on the couch and you nearly finished an entire rerun before he messaged you back, your phone buzzing. You immediately grabbed and unlocked your phone and Adrienne chuckled.

You ignored her, reading Harry's message. "Of course you can baby."

You beamed, calling him then. He answered after a few rings. 

"Hi, Harry," you said.

"Hi, love. I'm sorry I haven't really kept my promise to call and stuff. I've been busy," he said.

"Yeah? With what?" You didn't mean to sound pushy; it was a natural question.

He sighed. "Work."

"Work? It's Sunday."

"Yeah, I know. My bosses are emailing me all this new stuff to get my plan moving forward, though, and it's so exciting, and I just feel like I have to get on it right away," he said. "I've got a really big meeting tomorrow with some higher-ups. I've got a bunch of them coming up, actually."

"You'll do great," you said. "Think of it as exciting rather than scary. This is what you wanted, right?"

"Yeah, it is." He paused a second. "How are you, though? How's your studying coming?"

"Okay. I think my exam tomorrow will go well, at least," you said. "Then I've got a paper due Tuesday at midnight and another final Thursday. But everything else I've turned in. I did a lot of getting ahead on the projects I had this semester."

"That's good. Sounds like you're all set," he said. "I miss uni sometimes."

You sighed. "Yeah, I'm sure I'll miss it. Not this, though, all the stress. I hate exams."

"No one likes exams, Y/N," he said.

"I know. Still," you replied.

Silence lulled.

"What are we doing tomorrow?" you asked him.

"I don't know. What do you want to do?"

You didn't answer. What was going on with him?

"We can do whatever you want, love, that's all I'm trying to say. When's your exam?" he asked.

"In the morning. It'll be over by noon."

"Okay, then let's go out to lunch," he said.

"Lunch?" you asked. He was supposed to repay you from Friday night on this date.

"Yeah, lunch. I'll take a long lunch; we can come back to mine," he explained. "Does that sound okay? Where do you want to go? I can call and make a reservation anywhere."

"Let me think a second." You ought to pick someplace good. "What about that new Italian place?" you asked. "I think it's near your work. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

"Yeah, we can go there. I'll call. Can you meet me there at half past noon?" he asked.

Meet him there? It wasn't that you weren't willing to, just that he was usually so overly insistent to drive you everywhere. 

"Sure. How long will we have on a long lunch?" you asked him.

"Don't worry about it," he told you. "I'll take care of you, dear."

You smiled. 

"Are you excited?" he asked. "Oh, little Y/N, I hope you are. I have plans for you."

"Plans?" you asked flirtatiously. 

"Yes, plans. How do you like the idea of wearing a blindfold?" he asked you.

"I like it," you said quietly.

"I thought you might, little miss 'use me.' You're going to kill me one day, you know that?" he asked you.

"I'd never," you said.

"You might." He paused and changed his tone. "I should let you go and do your revising."

"I'm taking a break."

"Then take your break, baby, don't talk to me. Relax."

"Talking to you is relaxing," you told him. Usually it was, anyway.

You heard him snicker. "You're difficult, have I told you that?" he asked.

"Harry, if you're too busy and you can't talk now, you can say it and--"

"I'm sorry, love, you're right," he said. "I should get back to work."

"Okay."

"I'll make it up to you tomorrow, how's that?" he asked you. "I promise you'll have my full attention then," he said slyly.

"Okay, but I want it at lunch, too," you said.

"I know, babe," he told you. "I'll see you then, okay? Is it okay if I hang up now?" he asked.

Your finger itched the knee of your pajama bottoms. "Yes." You took a deep breath. "I love you, Harry."

"Oh, I know, dear. I love you back. Don't be upset, okay? I'll make it all better tomorrow."

"Okay," you said.

Adrienne adjusted uncomfortably next to you on the couch, sensing the forlornness in your voice.

"I promise I will. I'm sorry, baby... I've gotta go. We're going to have a great date tomorrow, though. Good luck on your exam and I'll see you then, okay?"

"Thank you," you said. "Bye."

"Bye, love."

You hung up. "Don't say anything," you said to Adrienne.

"I'm not."  
-  
You stood in the lobby of the restaurant, a little early as you liked to be. You were excited to try this place out, and excited to see Harry. Your exam went well, too. Things were looking up from last night. Looking back, you were nervous for your exam, on-edge. Your phone call with Harry didn't go amazing, but it was a phone call nonetheless. You needed to lower your expectations.

"Hey," he greeted you, dressed in a suit as he came from work. "How was your exam?" 

"Okay," you told him. "I knew everything on it. I'm hopeful."

"That's great. I'm sure you aced it, then." You went and stood in line for the host then. "Have you been here yet?" he asked you.

"No, I haven't. Have you?"

"Yeah, once. I like it." He stared ahead in line.

"How was work? Did you have your meeting?"

"Yeah, I did. It's going really well, just busy, you know? But for the first time, I really feel like they're taking me seriously. It's a great feeling," he said. "I'm glad I didn't do anything rash and start applying other places."

"That's good. I'm glad, too, if you're happy," you said. You grabbed his hand and he helped you lace your fingers together, squeezing your hand in his.

"I'm very happy lately," he said.

"Me too."  
-  
He laughed to himself while signing the check, shutting the book and setting it on the table.

"What?" you asked.

"Nothing."

"No, what's funny?" you asked, confused. "Is there something in my teeth or--"

"Nothing in your teeth, love."

"What's going on with the check, then?" 

He sighed, rolling his eyes. "Go ahead and look, I guess. It's just going to piss you off."

You looked across at him, his curly hair hanging just below his chin, his jaw hardening in irritation. He was so handsome and serious, his fingers twitching on the table cloth. 

"I won't be pissed off," you said softly, taking the check and reading it. The waitress had written her phone number on the bottom.

You shrugged, pretending it didn't bother you. You looked back to him and he cracked a smile.

"You're cute," he said.

"Why?"

"You're allowed to be annoyed, pet. We're on a date here," he said. 

"Why? Are you going to call her?" you asked him.

"Of course not."

"Then why should I let it bother me?" you asked, smiling. "I love you, Harry, and I trust you. I know... I obviously can tell you're attractive. This doesn't really come as much of a surprise."

He clicked his tongue. "I was looking forward to seeing you jealous."

"Well, it's going to take more than that."

"Does it?" he asked, narrowing his eyes as his cocky grin materialized. "Only took a few glances from Sarah."

"Harry--"

"Y/N," he said back, shaking his head. "It's not a big deal. Just don't act like you don't get jealous, I've seen it."

"Do you get jealous?" you asked back.

"Of who?"

Your face fell, losing all entertainment value of this conversation. Right. Harry had no one to be jealous of when it came to you. You were putty in his hands, and he knew it. "No one, Harry. Never mind."

"No, Y/N--"

The waitress came over and took your checkbook back. "I'll be right back with this."

Neither of you so much as looked at her in return.

"I was jealous at the gym," he spoke, his voice small once she stepped away. "Remember that?"

"Yes," you said to him, smiling a little. "I don't know why. That guy is an ass."

"And I'm not?" he asked you.

"No," you said incredulously, shaking your head profusely. "You're nothing like that. You're... You're sweet, Harry. I love you."

The waitress brought back your check just as Harry brought your knuckles to his lips for a little smooch. "I love ya back, babe."

You smiled largely at that while the waitress set the book on your table. "Thank you for dining with us. We hope to see you back again soon," she said standardly before leaving your table, making Harry widen his eyes at you and you giggle.

"I think she got the message," he said, placing his credit card back in his wallet. "Are we going back to mine?"

"Yes."  
-  
"I've got something for you," he said as you entered his flat.

"Something for me," you repeated. "Why?"

"A present for the end of your semester," he said. "I probably should've delayed it until after your finals are over, but I'm of the impatient sort," he continued. "I'll bring it out. It's just in my office."

So that was what the corner room off the living room was.

"Okay," you said, nodding and sitting down on the couch. You were careful not to choose the spot you sat in last time. "You really didn't have to get me anything."

"I know, but I rather like giving gifts, and you are the type of person where I need to find an excuse to buy you anything," he said.

You rolled your eyes. "I just... I'm not used to that kind of thing. And... I love you for you, not because of money or gifts or anything like that."

He smiled. "I know. I still like to buy you gifts. I'll be back." He turned his back to walk to the office then. "Go upstairs to my bedroom. I'll meet you up there."

You nodded. "Okay." What could the present be? You really had no idea, and you could tell he loved it. You considered it as you walked upstairs and sat on his bed, not thinking of a singular guess.

He entered the bedroom within a minute, carrying a thin wrapped box with a bow adorning the corner. He held it out for you. "Open it."

You mentally sighed. It looked like a box for a bracelet. You were already feeling guilty about the cost. You took the box from him and unwrapped it carefully, feeling his eyes on you all the while. 

The white box revealed itself to read Cartier in gold writing.

You gaped. "Harry!"

"Open it," he repeated.

You lifted the lid of the box to find a gold bracelet encrusted with diamonds. You looked up at him shyly.

"Do you like it?" he asked softly.

You cleared your throat. "It's... It's beautiful, Harry. But it's too much. How could I ever repay you for this?" you asked.

"It's not meant to be repaid, it's a gift," he said. He sat down next to you on the bed finally and gave you a kiss. "Now do you believe me when I say I'm serious about you?" he whispered.

You smiled and he kissed your forehead, gripping your hair from behind and holding you to himself. "Where could I wear something like this?" you wondered aloud.

"It's a bracelet," he said. "Wear it to class."

You frowned, knowing the attention it would bring upon you.

"Someplace I take you, like a gala or something," he said then. 

You looked up at him, furrowing your brow. 

"I always get invited to fancy parties by my bosses but I never bother going. Maybe now I'll take you with me," he explained. "It's not mandatory or anything; you don't have to, I just--"

You interrupted him with a kiss, setting the bracelet next to you on the bed to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer.

He moaned into your kiss, eventually palming your back. It reminded you of your first kiss: so innocent, so loving. You think this is your favorite part of your relationship you have with Harry, the pure love you have for one another.

Your hands eventually found the buttons of his shirt and began to undo them one by one, spreading the shirt off his chest, trying to push his suit jacket along with it. He laughed out of your kiss. "Eager?" he asked.

"Yes," you replied shamelessly.

At that, he shrugged off his jacket and shirt and tugged the T-shirt dress you borrowed from Carla up over your head. He ripped your bra off, too, quickly unsnapping it and throwing it off the bed. He pushed you back onto the bed with a kiss, laying overtop you now, and you made a noise against his mouth, remembering the bracelet.

"What?" he gasped.

"My bracelet," you replied. "I set it down on the bed." 

He glanced down and found the box by his side. He picked it up and groaned. "Move to the top of the bed." 

You giggled, crawling backward, him moving with you and finally putting the bracelet on his nightstand. "Okay," he said, and resumed kissing you, fondling your breasts then.

"I love you," you whispered.

"I love you, too, honey," he whispered back. He kissed you again. "Want me to lick you?"

"Mhm." You rejoined your lips but quickly widened your eyes and pulled away. "Oh, sorry. Yes, Daddy."

"Call me Harry," he mumbled, squeezing his hands around your stomach. "And I'll call you Y/N this time, yeah?"

"Okay," you whispered, trembling from his touch, so greedy and loving. He brushed a hand along your collarbone, pausing for a moment as he looked you in the eyes. 

"I didn't think I could feel this way about anybody," he said quietly.

You smiled. "I didn't think I could feel this way about anybody but you."

He grinned, blushing as he looked down at the bed. He eventually lowered himself and kissed you again. "There," he said, moving to suckle your jaw then. "There we go."

You sighed as he kept working, his hands teasing your hardened nipples now. 

"For such an innocent girl," he said softly, "you really don't mind when I mark you up, no?"

You smiled. "I only live with my flatmates. It's no big deal. And I just use concealer when I leave my flat."

"Mm," he groaned, grinding over you then. You squirmed, making him smirk. He latched onto your neck, moaning into it as your hips met his. "Fucking--"

"Can you get undressed if you're going to eat me out?" you blurted out. "Sorry, just last time when we--"

"You like me naked for you, yeah?" he asked you. 

"Shut up," you told him. Your hands left his tattooed biceps and cupped his face. "Is there a problem with that, anyway?"

He smiled, his dimples on full display for you. "No, not at all. Just... You first," he said, his finger latching around your panty's leg loop and pulling them down. He kissed your cheek. "Missed this," he whispered in your ear. Your fingers moved back from his face to intertwine in his hair, holding him against you. "Missed your taste." 

You reddened and loosened your grip on him for him to kiss your neck, noticing its redness. "Don't blush, baby. Nothing to be embarrassed over. Just loving up on you, yeah? My Y/N," he murmured on your neck. "Y/N, baby, are you mine?"

"Yes," you told him. "Harry--" You fussed with the belt on his pants, having not touched it until now because of what happened when you tried to remove his shirt last time. 

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he mumbled, helping you then. 

He eventually kicked off his pants and boxers, bringing his attention back to you. "You're so beautiful, baby," he told you, his hands tracing from your breasts to your stomach to your bum and back. 

"You think so?" you whispered.

"Mhm, always have," he said. He kissed your nose, still groping you tenderly. "Mhm, right? Always been my baby--"

"Harry," you moaned. You loved when he told you he'd always wanted you. It satisfied your years-long yearning and made you feel deserving of him for even a moment. 

It also felt so wrong but so good. "Wanted you back, need you now."

He smirked. "Greedy, yeah?" He kissed your cheek. "After wanting each other so long..." He kissed you on the lips then. "Fingers first, though," he murmured against your mouth and began rubbing you with two of his digits.

You moaned, gyrating your hips to make his movements more dramatic against you.

"Y/N, baby--"

You began stroking his length then and smiled as his eyes widened and his fingers halted a second. He grunted, losing the precision of his attentions on you as you worked him just as he showed you Friday night.

"Is that good for you?" you managed, reminding him of how he chastised you before.

"Yeah, stop," he choked out, and you did and felt his thrusts slow to a halt. "Real good, baby. Have to... First, though, I have to lick you, hon. After Friday," he leaned into your neck and placed giant wet kisses on it, "it's only fair. Besides, you taste so good, I can't help it. Spread your legs for me, baby."

You did as told and he placed open-mouth kisses on your boob, your ribcage, and your stomach as he leaned down to start.

You could never call Harry shy. He began lapping you with no hesitation, his hands reaching up and circling your nipples. You could feel his smile against you as you shook beneath him, whimpering and moaning as only he ever made you.

He always had something up his sleeve, though, and this time, it was commanding all his attention to your clit and using his fingers inside you again. That finished you, spasming and yelling out his name before you came down.

He didn't give you much of a warning before he rose to meet your face and entered you. You gasped in pleasure and surprise but ultimately you were relieved when he started moving. He was so slow and gentle. You shut your eyes, relishing in the feeling. "Look at me," he mumbled. "Wanna see you take me real nice like this."

You opened your eyes to see him looking back at you, grunting but smiling as he thrust. Your hips met his easily, and you were happy to think that you wouldn't be nearly as sore this time. 

He also wasn't wearing a condom now, and feeling him inside you with no barrier made this time different too. You were happy that this was you and him and nothing else.

"So tight, baby--"

You smiled at his praise, capturing his lips in yours a moment as he finished. He kissed you a dozen quick times, not concerned with pulling out from you in the slightest as he lengthened one kiss, pressing you into his covers, stretching you as he pushed further into you.

"Mm, Harry--"

"You're on the pill, r--"

"Yes," you answered. 

He kissed your nose. "Good."

"You wanted to wait a month to have sex," you spoke. "Remember that? You're insane."

"Mm."

"So who was right?" you asked.

He rolled his eyes.

"Hm? Who was right?"

He laughed, shrugging you off. "Well, we aren't done yet." 

"No?"

"No, you didn't finish," he said.

"I finished earlier," you said.

He shook his head. "That doesn't count. We had sex, we both should finish. What do you want, babe?"

His eyes bored into yours, awaiting your answer. He wasn't relenting.

"Lick me again," you said quietly.

A wide grin stretched across his face. "You like that," he said.

You nodded. "You're good."

He kissed your cheek. "You let me fuck your face, so..." he said in your ear.

You giggled, your legs wrapping around his waist in a silly gesture. 

He winced, as now he was as deep as he could fit inside you. "You just made it worse on yourself. This is gonna hurt." 

You groaned, realizing. 

"It's okay, I'll go slow. Sh, you're all right," he said, his lips brushing your ear as he moved slowly and cautiously out of you. It wasn't nearly as harsh as back in Santorini, and you sighed of relief.

"Okay, I'm fine," you said.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He leaned back into you and adjusted you to lay more straight on the bed. You couldn't help but laugh as it was a little awkward, and Harry laughed along with you before he kissed you again. 

"You know what," he paused, kissing you again, "I'm gonna like," kiss, "about this time?"

"What?"

"I get to taste us together," he said, scandalizing you before he left you once more. You knew he liked to make you blush. 

He was a lot more aggressive this time. He hitched your legs over his shoulders to get a better access point, and you loved him all the more for it. You screamed out as he swiped his tongue all over you. He had no attention span to use his hands anywhere this time; all of his focus was used up. His nose intentionally brushed your clit every now and then, and one of the times it happened, you unraveled for him, and he worked through your orgasm as he was known to.

When he came up to meet you again, he'd collected your juices on his face. "Have some," he murmured, kissing you so his coated lips met yours.

You relished the taste on his lips. "Your nose," you mumbled once you couldn't taste anymore.

He smirked, pulling away and allowing you to slurp the final residue from the tip of his nose. 

You didn't feel perverted right now, just loved and happy. As a matter of fact, you couldn't stop smiling.

But one thing was on your mind. 

"Harry, whatever happened to the blindfold?" you asked him.

"Fuck," he said, shutting his eyes. "Forgot."

"'s okay, another time," you mumbled, your fingers tracing his shoulder.

He rested his head on your shoulder, and you couldn't blame him. Of course he was tired. You hoped he had enough energy to return back to work.

Work. Uni. Your paper. Shit.

You let yourself rest a good fifteen minutes before you spoke up. "I should go. I have a paper to write."

He sighed.

"Look at me," you told him, and his head left your shoulder to do that. You kissed him. "Thank you. Thank you, really. I just... I need to turn this paper in, and I've got like two pages I still have to--"

"Sh, I know," he said. His hand stroked your face. "You wanna shower before you go?" he asked, smiling a bit as his fingers were feeling the sweat on your face.

You nodded. "Yeah, probably a good idea." You kissed him again and he cut you off.

"Go," he said. "Go, you've got things you need to do."

You nodded, sliding out from underneath him. You collected your clothes off the ground and made your way into his toilet.  
-  
You were almost done showering when you heard the toilet door open and shut. You turned to find him getting in the shower behind you, and he took no time walking into you so your front pressed into the tile wall and his mouth was against your ear.

Your heart raced in your chest as you smiled, ecstatic. He'd remembered that you wanted to try the shower.

"Whatever happened to the blindfold?" he murmured, mocking you. "Naughty little Y/N... You like it rough, don't you?"

You vocalized a soft, "Yes." You didn't know what he was about to do, but you were excited to see. 

He pressed into you harder so your body hurt against the cold tile. His erection was against your ass, your knees beginning to shake. "What's my name?"

"Daddy."

He repositioned and entered you from behind and thrust you mercilessly into the wall. "You little slut. You like that?"

It hurt. Your head hit the tile harshly. You were scared. You weren't ready for this. Maybe it was embarrassing, but you'd never had sex other than in the missionary position; forget standing up and from behind. You wanted to have sex in the shower, but not like this. From behind was too much.

"Stop," you said. "Stop! I can't--"

He immediately pulled out of you, making you whine in pain. He flipped you around and pulled you into his embrace. "Sh, sh... That's a girl. I'm sorry, Y/N. Hush, love-y. I'm so sorry. You're okay now. All done, no more. You're okay," he gushed, holding you against him tightly.

You cried into his chest, trying to catch your breath, but you couldn't in such proximity to him. You were panicking.

You felt his posture worsen as you continued to sob. The water was cold now.

"Sh... No more. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he choked out. "I..." he trailed.

You finally looked up at him to see his mortified face. He wasn't crying, but he looked like that was only because he was too shocked to cry.

"Can you let me go?" you whimpered.

He frowned, stepping away from you.

"Harry, I just... I need to calm down, and you're smothering me," you said.

He put his face in his hands. "I'm sorry, I just... You always need me close after--"

"I know, but right now I just need a second to myself," you interrupted him.

He nodded.

"Harry--"

You didn't even know what you were going to say, but he stopped you from saying it.

"No, I'll go. I'm so... I'm so sorry."

He left the shower and then the toilet and you held your arms to your chest as the cold water beat on your back.  
-  
He was leaned over his lap, his face in his hands when you came into the bedroom.

"Harry--"

"No. Don't feel bad for me."

You sighed. "I just wasn't ready for something like that," you told him. You chewed on your lip. "I wanted to... To do it in the shower, but--"

"I know. I should have asked you--"

"You did. You asked me if I liked it rough and I thought I knew what you meant but... I assumed you'd turn me around, and--"

"I'm not arguing about this. Take the bracelet and go," he said.

"Am I going to see you again?" you asked softly.

He looked up at you, tears flowing down his face. "You want to? You want to see me again after that?"

"Yes, because it was a mistake, Harry, and you stopped," you told him. "It was a mistake, I know. I was just a little surprised is all. I know you'd never hurt me on purpose. I'm okay now." You stepped towards him as though proving it. 

He rolled his eyes.

You sighed. "Please don't make this--"

"Go. Your bracelet is on the table."

"Yeah, I don't want it," you replied.

His expression worsened and your eyes widened to contradict him.

"No, not... I just... I can't wear it anywhere, Harry. It's so expensive... I just can't justify something like that. I appreciate the thought, but..." you trailed. You'd thought about it in the shower and decided you simply couldn't accept it. It was fun for the moment, but you couldn't imagine bringing it back to your flat.

He shook his head. "Fine. Go."

You held in a sob. "Please may I see you aga--"

"Turn in your paper and take your exams before you worry about me," he told you.

"Harry--" you cried. "Harry, this is so stupid, and I'm telling you I know you didn't mean it and... I was just frightened, but you stopped, and... Please. Please, we just had a wonderful afternoon--"

"Call me when you've finished your classes, okay?" he asked. "Then we can talk. After you've finished school and can think about it."

You nodded. "My last final is Thursday."

"Okay."

"What?"

"Nothing. I really don't know, Y/N. I... I hurt you, I--"

"I told you that it was okay and I understand--"

"It's not okay that I hurt you!" he yelled then. "Do you understand that? What happened in there is not okay!"

You rubbed your arm anxiously. "I was just... I was just surprised, is all. That's all. You stopped."

He sighed. 

"I'm not angry with you," you told him. "Maybe one day we could try that--"

"Go," he interrupted you. "Go. Stop trying to make it seem fine."

You looked at him a second more. "Fine, I'll go. I'll call you Thursday after my exam."

"Sure. Bye."  
-  
You were almost finished with your paper when your mum called. You answered the phone, "Hello? Mummy, I'm writing this final paper--"

"Jane told me something very interesting," she interrupted you and your heart fell to the floor.

"And what's that?" you asked, not wanting to confess unless this was a false alarm. Your face was pale as you waited for her to elaborate.

"I showed her those pictures you sent me from Greece, and she said that it's really funny how you're alone in all of them," she said. "Didn't you go with Carla and Adrienne?"

"Yeah, I did, Mum. I don't know. We didn't take a group picture," you told her.

She didn't respond and you sighed.

"Mum, we were drinking all weekend. I'm sorry, it just didn't happen," you said.

"Well," she started, "Jane also said that one of Harry's friends mentioned to her that he went to Santorini recently," she said. "Could it have been on that same trip?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," you told her, your stomach churning as you lied. "He bought my art, Mum. I don't know. I haven't heard from him in ages otherwise."

Jane was torturing you. She could have just ratted you out, but no. She was playing the long game.

She sighed. "All right," she told you. "Y/N, you aren't to associate with him, do you know that? It would hurt Jane sorely."

"I'm not, Mummy. This is so random. Can I please go back to writing my paper? It's due tomorrow night, I need to make revisions," you said.

"Okay," she said solemnly then. "Okay, I'm sorry. I just... It's not a secret you fancy him, Y/N. And Jane seemed so worried when she told me. Okay, I'll let you go. Love you. Goodbye."

"I love you, too, Mum."  
-  
"Good luck on your exam. I love you. Talk soon. H."

The flowers sat on your coffee table, staring back at you before you left to take your test.

"Good luck," Carla said softly. "Y/N, he makes you so sad."

You scoffed. "It's not him that makes me sad, it's when we fight."

She shook her head. "And it worries me that you won't tell us what about."

"I love him," you spoke. "We'll figure it out. He just... He wanted me to have more time to study."

Carla sighed. "Okay. You should go."

You nodded, glancing at the clock. "I should. Bye."  
-  
You stood in the public restroom of the building after your exam, your phone ringing against your ear.

"Y/N," he answered the phone, making you smile. "Hi, baby."

"Hi, Harry," you said, smiling. "How are you?"

"How was your exam?" he asked, not answering the question. "Oh, and your term paper."

"I think both went really well, thanks," you said. "How are you?" you asked again.

"I'm fine, Y/N. How are you is the more important question," he told you.

"I'm good, Harry. I told you... I told you I know you wouldn't mean to hurt me," you said softly. "It's not like... I don't know. I just... You tried something new, and I let you know I didn't like it. Not even that I didn't like it, just that I wasn't ready. That's not bad," you said. "I wasn't afraid to tell you, and you stopped right away. I don't think that's bad at all."

"All right," he said. "All right, if that's how you feel..." he trailed. "We aren't going to be rough for a bit, though."

"Okay," you said. You knew he was upset with himself. Whatever he needed to feel ready again was okay with you. "When can I see you?" you asked.

"Mm, not tonight," he said, and your face fell. "What about... I can call you Saturday morning and we'll work something out for the weekend, yeah?" 

"What are you doing tomorrow?" you asked softly.

He sighed. "I just... I've got some good news from work, Y/N, but I don't want to tell you until it makes the papers," he said. 

The papers?

"Anyways... I just have a lot going on, you know? What if we FaceTime tonight and tomorrow? How's that? And then Saturday we see each other," he suggested. "By the weekend I should have some room to breathe. I just... I don't wanna fuck this up, this thing with work."

He was made partner at the firm. That had to be it. What else would make the papers?

"Okay," you told him, smiling. "You know, Harry, I'm not stupid."

"I know you aren't."

You laughed. "Okay, well, I know what your news is. They picked you to be a p--"

"Don't say it, though," he interrupted you. "Just... Just don't, okay? It can't get out before the papers are published. We'll celebrate Saturday--celebrate my news and the end of your semester, how's that?" he asked.

"Your news is much more exciting," you told him. "Congratulations, Harry. This is amazing, really. Partner before thirty, that's fantastic!" you exclaimed.

"I know. I'm thrilled. They told me that they always appreciated my ideas, so they decided to give me that chance to present a business model and if it went well, they had already decided to give me the promotion."

"Well, it's a good thing you practiced, then, right?" you asked. 

"Yeah, it is. You're right about a lot of things, Y/N."

You smiled at that. He usually was so stubborn. "Thank you, Harry."

You waited in silence for him to say something next.

"I love you."

"I love you back."

"I'm so sorry. I'd never hurt you on purpose, and you can always tell me no--"

"I know," you told him, not surprised he was bringing this up again. "That's why I did. It's okay, Harry, really. I was just startled is all, that's why I was crying. I forgive you."

"Okay," he said quietly. "I'm still sorry. And we'll just ease back into it, okay? There's no reason to be scared with me, ever," he said.

"Okay, I know," you told him. "I promise I'm okay."

"All right," he said finally. "All right, I need to prepare for another meeting here in an hour. I love you very much. Talk soon, okay?"

"Yeah. I love you, too."

"Mhm. Bye."

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've ever shared fanfiction I've written on the Internet like this 😗 so lemme know if I'm doing anything wrong basically! I can take constructive criticism. And have a great day:) thanks for spending time reading something I wrote. Updates should come... when they come I guess lol


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